If (as the Urban Legend goes) I was born in a darkroom sink under a red light to the sound of running water and the smell of photographic chemistry then I could understand my early ability to print at a very young age without direction and produce fabulously fabulous images. But few ever understood my artistic interpretations in a small Northern town where the meat and Potato pie is at the top of the culinary food chain and photography is something you do on Christmas mornings, or on a trip to the Sea Side.
Its been twelve years since my parents came to visit me here in London (Oh London's too fast for me son, and the beers far too expensive). And even now they have no real understanding of why I do what I do, although they do think its 'lovely and great...' But sometimes this is enough.
One things for sure with my folks, you will always get an honest (very honest) opinion. And one with no outside influence or fluffy edges...
'That's class that is."
"Well I wouldn't put that one on my wall."
"How did you get up there.."
And my favourite;
"Bloody hell, how much!" Although that could of been from anyone.
I'm Still recovering..
19.3.10
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