Sprung
The idea for my Sprung collection arose through practice - I was shooting I'm Late simply because it was a highly dynamic, yet clearly dead (or dying) flower; in fact it arressted my attention as I passed it on the roadside. I imagined its entire life in a single moment, this moment, and I thought to myself "Well now, spring really has sprung".
And that simple idea, that spring comes and goes, stuck with me. It seems to me that spring is always treated as a begining, herald of new life - and we tend not to think about the death of that life until perhaps winter rolls around. But the begining is the end - the two are inseperable. With life comes death.
But actually, that was all much more sombre than my intent.
For what really struck me about I'm Late was just how compelling, and beautiful, the bloom was even in its wilting condition - and this became the visual trope for the collection; how to reveal the beauty of decay.
The result is a set of images that clearly sit between life and death but which, more importantly, sit between public identity and 'self'; the face we present versus our very essence. Through these images I can explore that basic contradiction of the human condition: how we feel versus how we appear.
About The Images
Sprung #01: Golden Heart
NIKON D850
1/320s f/8 105mm ISO:64
29/05/2022 12:12
Our clematis has wonderfully vigorous blooms - so stuffed full of life that the very weight of them means the entire bloom is readily shed in the lightest of winds; for heavy hearts fall fastest.
Sat on the specimen table in my studio for 2 days the deep red petals turn first black and then golden; and is shown here in that half-life state. It turns out my brother has a big heart and they won't let him box (at least not professionally). And it seems that the greater the heart, the greater the weight of world within it.
Another World
Another World
Another World
Make for me
Another World
The basic building blocks and bits
No longer seem to me to fit
As if the trees don't reach the ground
But still beneath the earth turns round
And if the seas can't reach the beach
Then turning tides mean nought to me
If passing clouds hold up the rains
What's this storm inside my brain?
And if we're made from burnt out stars
Why are the heavens so damn far?
Another World
Another World
Make for me
Another World
Another World
Make for me
Another World
Another World
Another World
Sprung #02: In The Pink
NIKON D850
1/30s f/8 105mm ISO:64
20/04/2022 13:19
Still well-formed and somehow holding it together - not totally falling apart: In The Pink.
Mental Health Awareness week one year had the theme Surviving or Thriving and the sad truth is most of us are just about surviving...
Surviving or Thriving
Quoth the raven still never more
Quell the voices to a dull roar
Question what is family for
Quantum leap just to open doors
Quiet, quiet avoid mousetraps
Quick click clacking danger snaps
Quislings hunt in friendly packs
Quitting living a proven fact:
What has passed can't be brought back
What has passed can't be brought back
What will be can't be foreseen
Why dwell wither spectres lie
Why scratch away at your mind's eye
Where do eagles dare to soar
Where do oceans meet the shore
When do dreams take solid form
When you have calmed your inner storm,
and Quoth the Raven now evermore
Sprung #03: I'm Late
NIKON D850
1/60s f/11 105mm ISO:64
25/04/2022 11:25
I saw this specimen on the roadside whilst out photographing scarecrows. I was struck by the dynamic arrangement of its fading petals - it looked absolutely manic to me, and reminded me of that 'final bloom' so many lives seem to acquire at the very end.
So I plucked it and took it to my studio - which is something I very rarely do. It seems odd to me that people pluck flowers in order to appreciate (or record) their 'beauty'; I mean if you love a thing don't kill it, right? But their is a beauty in both death and decay, which I am hoping these images help to reveal.
Bring on, bring on, bring on the end
Bring on, bring on, bring on the end
I'm ready now for to pretend
That life has meaning in the dregs
Of warming spirits drunk with friends
Bring on, bring on, bring on the end
This day's battle let us suspend
Weary arms and weary legs
Let me settle in your bed
Bring on, bring on, bring on the end
Let my spirit at last transcend
Smooth all the tangled broken threads
I need your kisses upon my head
Sprung #04: I'm Only Sleeping
NIKON D850
0.4s f/11 105mm ISO:64
18/04/2022 14:14
Once wilted these looked just like a bunch of adorable mop-tops, proper emo-flowers asleep all day even when awake!
For me they represent the struggle that getting out of bed and facing the day can be.
Happiness is
Happiness is a cold death bed
A coiled sheet around your legs
A soiling of your dreams again
Turmoil in a counter pain
Happiness is a deep regret
Of spoiled dreams you have upset
Happiness is a warm firm breast
That soothes a troubled furrowed head
But a troubled man he will instead
Take a drink to try forget
That happiness is a deep regret
That you're not worthy of your best
Happiness is for older men
Happiness is a colder game
Happiness is a bludgeon blunt
Happiness is a judgement just
So pack your overnight flight bag
And buy your happiness from Dignitas
Sprung #05: I've Fallen
NIKON D850
1/8s f/8 105mm ISO:64
28/05/2022 18:56
With the limbs all twisted and pointing every which way, this little buttercup reminds me of the vulnerabilities we acquire as we age; when even a simple fall can spell disaster.
Humanity
align, assign, combine, consign, decline, design, divine, entwine, malign, opine, outline, resign
sideline.
capacity, mendacity, alacrity, audacity
voracity, tenacity, fertility, servility.
agility, civility, debility, ability, humility.
docility, fragility, hostility.
virility, senility.
humanity.
humanity.
.
futility.
futility, futility.
futility, futility, futility.
futility, futility, futility, futility, futility.
futility, futility, futility, futility,
futility, futility, futility, futility.
futility, futility, futility, futility,
futility, futility, futility, futility,
futility, futility, futility, futility,
futility.
You never cease.
To amaze me.
Sprung #06: Bluebells are blue bells
NIKON D850
1/80s f/11 105mm ISO:64
03/05/2022 10:49
I like how, as they are wilting, we can see the blueness 'infecting' the stems and the very tips of the flowers - the blue of depression; 'feeling blue'. Running beyond skin deep. And infecting all of us, as it does.
Washed-up
Here I am again
Washed-up on the beach
Don’t know where I am -
Just know,
You are out of reach…
You are out of reach…
You are out of reach…
Don’t know where I am -
Just know,
You are out of reach…
Here it is again
A feeling that I lack
The world is round but
I am flat,
And you sure are relaxed…
You sure are relaxed
You sure are relaxed
The world is round but
I am flat,
And you sure are relaxed…
-
I wish that I could be
In your history
Don’t know where I am -
Just know,
Space is illusionary
Don’t know where I am -
Just know,
Space is illusionary
Sprung #07: I'm on fire!
NIKON D850
1/250s f/8 105mm ISO:64
28/05/2022 15:35
I know that I have lived most of my life filled with rage like a fire was permanently burning inside of me; it wasn't the most comfortable of lives until I realised I suffered from 'perfect hate' and learnt to hate the sin not the sinner...
End Of Days
What if this were to be the end of days?
The sun, the stars, the winds, the waves all spent
When hearts as one burst into fiery blaze
Would history be bright and full of praise
Would friends and neighbours wish you would repent?
What if this were to be the end of days?
Did each kiss bestowed magically amaze?
Did each attack land with true intent?
When hearts as one burst into fiery blaze
Did your truth, finally, the lies outweigh?
Did your deeds ascend to their fullest bent?
What if this were to be the end of days?
Did each dream evaporate in to haze?
Did each day appear as if heaven sent?
When hearts as one burst into fiery blaze
Or did your life mutate into a waste
Of good intentions that you never meant
What if this were to be the end of days?
When hearts as one burst into fiery blaze
Sprung #08: Behind The Mask
NIKON D850
1/100s f/11 105mm ISO:64
14/05/2022 13:03
With the very thick and velvety petals I was finding it hard to get the lighting right for this wilted pansy, until I turned it over and saw the twisted up sepals and stem - realising this was more an image of what lies behind the face we present to the world.
Chimera
You're a collision of catastrophes
A cataclysm of calamity
A disaster of a tragedy
And a dreamer of humanity
You're a bastard of a fantasy
A perfection of a reverie
A decanter of the heavenly
And a fanciful profanity
You're a demon of divinity
A spectrum of fragility
A model of gentility
And a sorrow of humility
You're a cadaver of a history
A master of a mystery
A hero of the things to be
A shining light of truth to me
You're washed up on the beach it seems
A monster from the deep blue sea
At twenty thousand fathoms deep
You will sleep perchance to dream
You're a precision of dichotomy
A victim of your honesty
A half a shattered helix
And a semi risen Phoenix
You're all a man, a man can be
You're partly caged but always free
You're all a man, a man can be
A collision of catastrophes
Sprung #09: Shed
NIKON D850
1/500s f/8 105mm ISO:64
28/05/2022 13:07
So much of ageing is just a form of shedding...
Misplaced
Where have all my excuses gone?
I used to have a plastic bagful
I would use them one by one
I used to find that they were useful
Where have all my reasons gone?
I used to keep them in a cupboard
I would stick little labels on
Until I felt recovered.
Where has all my logic gone?
I used to swig it by the bottle
I would feel a little drunk
It used to make me dance a wobble
Where has all my belief gone?
I used to have some of it somewhere
And it was so gigantic that
My friends could not compare
Now I'm left with empty bags
Broken cups and bottles too
Something has diminished me
And I don't know what to do
Where have all my years gone
I used to hang them up on trees
They looked so very beautiful
Swaying in the breeze
Sprung #10: Bad Hair Day
NIKON D850
1/400s f/5.6 105mm ISO:64
16/04/2022 18:07
Of course, it isn't really a bad hair day - more that the poor thing is dying. Personal care, grooming and hygiene, are often indicators of a poor mental state; which is kind of a shame given how conversations about such are almost as taboo as conversations about mental health! How do you tell a friend they stink today? Yeah its tough, but honestly by saving 'embarrassment' we're ignoring one of the clearest signs that a person needs help.
Take away
Take away these craggy lines
And this silver in my hair
Take away this saggy skin
And all these long acquired cares
Take away these aching knees
And this practical underwear
Take away this new disease
And my cold and lonely stare
Give me back my future
My springtime and my youth
Give me back my chances
To understand the truth
Give me back my reason
To embrace a night of dreams
Give me back my childhood
And wipe the old slate clean
Take away the stains I leave
When I take a pee
Take away the memories
Of maudlin misery
Take away all of the dysfunction
Of an old and frozen brain
Take away all the hated years
And make me young again
Take away the wasted years
Before I ever knew
Take away the flowing tears
Of a cold and lonely youth
Sprung #11: Papakha
NIKON D850
1/160s f/11 105mm ISO:64
09/05/2022 19:45
I was amazed at the changes these dandelions went through as the life seeped from them. The petals have completely closed up to reveal the infamous 'clock', presumably in a last ditch attempt to spread the seed - life springs eternal! And this is really at the heart of my Sprung series: the wheel of life. I suppose there can be some ennui to these images, but they're meant to be more uplifting than all that!
On a side note, I originally called this 'Cossacks?', because they reminded me of what I associated with the Cossack people. But then I realised this comes from television since I've never been to the Ukraine or South Russia, and is probably therefore stereotyping and bordeline racist! So I looked up the proper name for the kind of hat I was actually envisioning and changed the title to that: Papakha. So I learnt something, at least.
Spring
Some lives are as pure as the snow the spring rains wash away
Bursting forth through frosted fields with fresh hopes for a new age
Ignorant that the place they grow is nought but last year's grave
That all life feeds upon the grief of forebears passed away
O little plant grow big and strong but please do wipe your feet
You've set your roots down in amongst the heart of life's disease
For your beauty feeds on carrion in this carousel
The merry-go-round of life and death is our private hell
Now winter's cessation gifts you this duty to excel
You've got to be greater than the shit upon which you dwell
The greatest sin is not living strong and successfully
Respect your still born kith and kin and what they may have been
So little plant grow big and strong
For on you we'll soon feed
Sprung #12: LISTEN TO ME
NIKON D850
1/160s f/11 105mm ISO:64
12/05/2022 17:15
This I call LISTEN TO ME as the little sickly daisy on the right bellows at his mate on the left... we are exhorted these days to 'talk about it' - as though we're to blame for our misfortunes by bottling them all up; despite that being the modus operandi throughout our childhoods and formative years. BUT how are we supposed to 'talk about it' when no one even knows how to listen?
This poem was crowd-surfed! It distills the real-world true-life experience my friends have had whilst tryint to exactly "Talk About IT".
Listen To Me
Poppa chides his daughter
For crying like a girl
Momma tuts and says "Man Up
There's worse off in this world"
I don't cry in front of people now
I learnt my lessons well
Let's have a Knickerbocker glory and
Pretend that all is swell
A daily dose of denial
Is doing me quite well
Anguish wretches silently
Inside my private hell
When I crack, you turn your back
And wish you'd never asked
Why don't you count your blessings
You're just a little sad
Not my problem
Not my problem
I don't have the time for this
You have been the weakest since
We were little kids
Answer you're not doing FINE
And then they are all aghast
Pull yourself together
Don't you know the storm will pass?
Self harming makes you ugly
It exposes all your scars
Why don't you simply live or die?
Make up your fucking mind.
Everybody gets a little
Down from time to time
Did ever I tell you all about
Me, myself and I?
Sorry that I interrupt
But if you cannot go out
Have a tin of soup and
When you're better gi's a shout
Not my problem
Not my problem
I don't have the time for this
You have been the weakest since
We were little kids
Don't want to be here or
Any other where
When you spy a person dressed
As a grizzly bear
And finally a tear spills
As he holds you to his breast
For the kindness of a stranger
Soothes your trouble head.
There's nothing like a smack-in-the-gob,
from people you lean on
For though we talk about it
The pain is never gone.
Sprung #13: Squid Game
NIKON D850
1/13s f/8 105mm ISO:64
02/06/2022 13:27
Granny's Bonnet, 24 hours after picking. It took me 4 attempts to get the point of view just right in order to get the best separation between the petals, showing off the 'crown' of blue fronds...
I used to believe that happiness would be related to 'success' - doing well, being recognised, attaining rewards. Making and wearing the bestest of all crowns! But I have suffered much more success than happiness over the years, and everything we create wanes faster than we ever believed it might. However beautifully we may bloom.
Night Terror
It'll be the hottest day of the year if the sun still deigns to rise
The shadows that appear will create a dark disguise
A turbulent creeping fear the moon will mix in with the tides
Ancient monsters reappear with your name cut in their hides
The shadows that appear will create a dark disguise
For year after year this old man's life acquired lies
Ancient monsters reappear with your name cut in their hides
As more and more and more of us die from pure surprise
For year after year this old man's life acquired lies
Cardiac infractions and cancers multiply
As more and more and more of us die from pure surprise
Nothing screams louder than the terror in the night
Cardiac infractions and cancers multiply
A turbulent creeping fear the moon will mix in with the tides
Nothing screams louder than the terror in the night
It'll be the hottest day of the year if the sun still deigns to rise
If the sun still deigns to rise
In the twilight of your life
If you see with clear eyes
In the fullness of your time
If the sun still deigns to rise
And you think you have survived
In the fullness of your time
You'll give in to all life's lies
Sprung #14: Fly By
NIKON D850
1/100s f/8 105mm ISO:64
03/06/2022 12:13
Fuscias are lovely, one of my favourite flowers. I chose one that had fully opened and one that had barely opened for this composition which reminds me of a Red Arrows aerial display.
Such spectacle. Such drama. Such life-force!
But it is in good company where loneliness bites hardest.
Lost and Found
Not over stiles
Nor by country miles
Not across still lakes
Nor in mountain caves
Not in forests green
Nor in fabled scenes
Of far away city twisting streets
Never there will you find me
For
Isolation's nearer than you perceive
And
Just as absence hearts will grieve
So
Loneliness amplifies in crowds
What? Yes
Loneliness amplifies in crowds
As
Separation swells when you're around
You won't find me in hermit's gowns
For I'm most lost in my home town
Isolation's not some destination
But wrapped inside friends' brief hesitations
Sprung #15: Umbilical
NIKON D850
1/30s f/8 105mm ISO:800
04/06/2022 12:25
With the stem curling around the bloom, I was reminded of the umbilical cord - that tether to family, that bond that binds. That thing that keeps us grounded but also prevents our flight.
In Memory
Since memory is imperfect
Why is it so cruel?
Can I not invent a life
Lived with perfect rules?
A place where no one hits their kids
And vets do more than kill
Where every day everyone
Had more than scraps of food
Even raga muffins had
Brightly polished shoes
No one's feet were ever bare
And no one hated school
The lights stayed on
The beds were warm
And the mother sang of dad's romance
In a green and pleasant
Loving land
Since memory is imperfect
Let me take regret
And imagine that I'd never
Lived but to forget
And the mother sang
Of a fine romance
In the days before she died
But memory is too cruel
For me to be so fooled
Yes, the mother sang
Of a fine romance
And the mother lived
A life of lies
And memory is too cruel
For me to be so fooled
Sprung #16: Breathe
NIKON D850
1/40s f/11 105mm ISO:64
07/06/2022 11:49
Cherry Blossom. This to me looks for all the world like I imagine a lung to look. I can envision the trees respirating as they struggle to deal with our CO2 imbalance. It puts me in mind of the relationship between good physical and good mental health...
It’s Mental Health Awareness Week
And I am unimpressed
For body negativity
Cannot be addressed
By telling me to get active
When I can’t get out of bed
“Health body, healthy mind”
Is spinning round my head
And your T-shirt slogan is
Better left unsaid
Why can’t you accept me
As I am instead?
“Health body, healthy mind”
I think that you will find
Is just another bloody trap
For people of my kind
I’d rather take a power nap
Than a power walk
I don’t want to listen to
The chatter of your talk
I’m positive my body is
Hopelessly engorged
So fuck your victim shaming with
Your lazy metaphors
“Health body, healthy mind”
I think that you will find
Is just another bloody trap
For people of my kind
My belly may be swollen but
For better or for worse
“Health body, healthy mind”
Is less a mantra more a curse?
Sprung #17: Boys Do Cry...
NIKON D850
1/40s f/8 105mm ISO:200
27/06/2022 15:46
Dried-out red poppy petal that I've rehydrated by dunking it into a glass of water for 24 hours. Much of the pigment has leeched out leaving what looks to me to be a very 'retinal' image, so of course, the water drops must be tears, right?
The way to a man's heart
The way to a man's heart is through his veins
Vanity and ego courses through the blood
Skin and bone may bear the wickedest pains
But it's capillaries that contain his love
The way to a man's heart is through his eyes
Bigger in his head than on the outside
Tongue twisters treasonably tell true lies
It's optical sockets that hold what he hides
The way to a man's heart is through his chest
With boot stamp or brickbat or bloody knife edge
Calcified cages can conceal sense of dread
The man is alive, who dares bare his breast
Sprung #18: Beauty
NIKON D850
1/80s f/8 105mm ISO:64
29/06/2022 12:41
Dandelion and rose petals.
Beauty
Always hoped that I would be so pretty
Wrapped up in the finest tailored robes
But it seems that beauty doesn't fit me
For inside I'm just no English Rose
Sprung #19: Blown Away
30/06/2022 14:08
White rose, modern decay. These were just weird, they wilted in a way that seemed super unnatural. Supermarket flowers!
Sprung #20: Company
NIKON D850
1/80s f/8 105mm ISO:64
22/06/2022 16:17
Big leaf, little leaf on the same stem.
Platitudes and shibboleth
(please don't pray)
"R u ok hun? Your light is bright! Tomorrow will follow this lonely night
You are awesome, so very brave, take those lemons to make lemonade"
If I'm truly in your thoughts I guess that may just soothe your mind
If I'm held within your heart I guess you will feel so very kind
If prayers be carried up aloft I guess they'll please your inner god
How nice to hold on to so much love, for folk you once but no more touch
R u ok hun?
Shut the fuck up
I'd rather be touched
Than feel fake facebook love
Sprung #21: Propellerhead
NIKON D850
1/100s f/8 105mm ISO:64
24/06/2022 15:54
"Dance like nobody is watching you..."
Why can't I be one of those mentals?
Life is hard when you work it out
I'm an island my shore it is gentle
I've deserted without a doubt
Life is hard when you work it out
Torrid thoughts turn to elementals
I've deserted without a doubt
Ancestors axed with buried parentals
Torrid thoughts turn to elementals
In deep waters I thrash about
Ancestors axed with buried parentals
In spaces no one hears me shout
In deep waters I thrash about
I'm an island my shore it is gentle
In spaces no one hears me shout
Why can't I be one of those mentals?
I can't stand these strands and ligaments
That tether me to a past malignant
Mocking shadows of a glorious man
Less now than ever, less now than that
I was worried about this piece because it is pretty damned obtuse and perhaps could be read as if/as though it's old school mental health shaming - you know, mocking the crazees. But then I thought, it's obtuse because I'm exploring my own mental health history and any mocking is of myself because I just don't understand that foreign country; my own past. I feel like I may have gone through a mental breakdown, only when I wasn't looking. And now I wonder how many people does that happen to???
Everybody Dance Now.
Sprung #22: Spikey
NIKON D850
1/100s f/8 105mm ISO:800
03/06/2022 15:50
Wild buttercups picked from the fields around England's second smallest church... They were growing in clumps; mad, twisted, tangled groups. They remind me of how we spend so much time trying to fit in with groups we perceive as being similar, let whilst hating who we are ourselves.
I'm laying down some roots
I've been leaving dusty tracks down far too many ancient streets
I've spent my life a growling at people that I sometimes meet
If I give them chance to hate, hate the man I seem to be
Then I won't have to reconcile I've been damaged for awhile
Hatred of the self
Is a poison everyday
The trouble with abuse is
It never goes away
I've been blowing in the wind and tossing on the frothing sea
I've been treating people like, people were just plates of meat
Treat them like my punching bag, it's no wonder they won't play
I don't have to care about, the rules of the crying game
Hatred of the self
Is a poison everyday
The trouble with abuse is
It never goes away
I'd never felt a pair of arms wrapped so tightly around me
Never felt a golden heart soothe me with its soothing beat
Never understood that love, love was more than just a pain
Hope to god that I get to, a nirvana once again
Hatred of the self
Is a poison everyday
The trouble with abuse is
It never goes away
I'm laying down some roots it seems, acting like I'm normal
Trying not to self abuse, or reflect that upon you
It's almost like my steely cage wants to melt, to melt away
It's almost like I want to say, I've got friends and that's okay
Hatred of the self
It seems can dissipate
That trouble with abuse is
All my yesterdays
It's almost like I want to say, I've got friends and that's okay