Thursday, January 04, 2018

2017, a year with designers and makers

In the last year I was lucky enough to work with some incredible designers, makers and architects both here in Scotland and in London. Although most of my creative energies in 2017 were focused on my return to art school (still processing that btw) and drawing and painting, this work was some of the most fulfilling and inspiring of my year. 
I truly love editorial photography work with designers and makers and approach it in much the same way as I approach photographing people - slowly, tentatively, looking for the heart and the story behind what makes my subject what it is and the fleeting moments of light and shadow that tell a little of that story.  
It's not an approach that works for all commercial clients (if you're looking for glossy brochure images I can point you in the direction of people much more adept at that than I am!) but when I find the artists and visionaries who love light and dark, story and soul, barely there details and a sense of catching something that was almost lost as much as I do, magic happens. And although I seem to be continuing on at art school, searching for the connection to fine art that I misplaced somewhere a decade or so ago, I hope that the universe makes me some time and sends me some more of those incredible designers, makers, artists and dreamers that I have loved working with this year.  
Here are a handful of my favourite images from some of these collaborations. (Many are part of a long term project that I hope will continue into this year and that I will be able to share with you when it's completed!) 




You can see more of my editorial and commercial work here
Knitwear by Verisimilitude 
architecture, curation and design by State of Craft  




Thursday, November 16, 2017

wax paper packages tied up with... stickers.


https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/peoniesandpolaroids

Now that I have reached a hiatus in my studying I am really pleased to announce that I am reopening my etsy shop. It is fully stocked with sets of note cards featuring both French and Hebridean photographs, the two different landscapes that have whispered to and soothed my soul in the last few years. 

I spend a lot of time doubting that I know what it is I'm supposed to do with my life but making things - actual things that people can hold and feel and treasure - is the touchstone that I always come back to. The world is messy and overwhelming and worrying and bringing together something, anything, into a small physical form that makes sense and brings calm and shares an idea or a thought or a feeling that can be held in someone's hands... that brings me unspeakable, if fleeting, peace. 

Note cards probably won't change the world (I mean they might, I feel like there's potential for a note card-based revolution. Ideas on a... note card) but they can probably change the course of someone's day. Frame them, gift them, write some words of love onto that deliciously lush card and pop them in a parcel to a friend who needs to know that you care. Also, they're just really pretty. You probably can't get yourself physically to a Hebridean island or to the south of France terribly easily but I hope that these sets will bring a little of those places to you. 

Details - each set contains five different photographs, taken be me, and printed onto the heaviest, most delicious matt card I've ever seen. They're packaged in wax paper envelopes and sealed with a kiss a nice shiny sticker. 

They are for sale in my etsy shop and will be dispatched on Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays, in keeping with island postal services. 





Thursday, November 02, 2017

Paths and unsettled souls.

Perhaps there are betters times and places to walk off an unsettled soul than the wilds in November, but I don't know them.

I don't know of a better place to trip and stumble and swear and cry and shout profanities into the echoing expanses of moor and sea and sky.

I don't know of a better place to crouch in the heather, seeing the universe, not in a grain of sand but in a clump of moorland, colours and layers and depths and intricacies, worlds of which you know nothing because you're just too damn big.

I don't know of a better place to follow paths you and no other human made, paths that lead through and to nowhere or maybe to the exact place you need to be.

I don't know of a better place to stare into water and see nothing but the above mirrored back to you, or the first few inches of below, swimming and rippling and distorting.

I do not know of a better place to come home to. Maybe they exist, but I do not know of them. This is the place I know.