A Year in Pictures – 7 January 2015 – The Light That Shines In The Darkness

Today I have been able to think of nothing much besides the horrible events in Paris and have wondered what to photograph that might in any way be fitting. I offer an image of my place of work, St Olave Hart Street in the City of London.

The churchyard has over the last few months been undergoing extensive refurbishment, with new paving and the construction in contrasting shades of granite of a prayer labyrinth. There will be new bench seating and, over the next few months new planting, including special herb beds to commemorate William Turner—not the painter but the 16th-century clergyman and doctor of physic who published the first original herbal in the English language. There is also new lighting.

On this day—one of the gloomiest in terms of weather so far this winter and blighted by yet more politico-religious violence—it was the new lights that invited me to produce a photographic response. The word "photography" of course means "drawing with light" and, even over the first few days of this new year, I have sensed a growing fascination with the presence of light in the world. Looking ahead to the moment when the final image of this 365-day project will appear, I hope that by the end of 2015 my obsession with light will remain undimmed and my skill at harnessing even a small portion of its wonders will have grown.

Light illuminates and it also, as it falls on an object, enables us to discern form and so interpret what it is we are looking at. Without the light of wisdom we blunder around in the darkness of our own passions, whether or not we choose to justify their dominance over us by appeal to dogmas of hatred and destruction. Walk towards the light.

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God at the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it."
The Gospel of John, Chapter 1, verses 1 to 5

A Year in Pictures – 6 January 2015 – A Great British Institution

I see this wonderful old pub every working day as it is in the same street as my place of work. This was where my colleagues and I had our working lunch yesterday—in the first-floor room, just below whose windows the sign is swinging in the strong numbing winds that chap ungloved hands in minutes. In the sixteenth century a notable merchant's house—known as "Whittington's Palace, but not having anything to do with the pantomime Lord Mayor or his cat—stood on this spot. It was ornately decorated with carvings of animals and foliage and its courtyard was open to the street, but it was demolished in 1801. What I wouldn't do to bring it back, although the more modest building you see above—with its painted embellishments, cosy interior, refreshing beer and heartening food—is far from being an unworthy successor, making a valiant stand against the relative drabness of the surrounding office blocks. Now, who's for steak and chips and a cool draught of something yeasty?

A Year in Pictures – 5 January 2015 – Another Monstrous Carbuncle

Bit off more than I could chew with this photo, and no mistake.

The church office where I work in the City of London reopened today after the Christmas and New Year break. There were many good points, including a very productive working lunch with my colleagues (fish and chips in the neighbouring pub, since you ask).

The walk between Bank and my place of work generally takes me past the brand new 20 Fenchurch Street, which is generally now referred to as "the Walkie-Talkie". There is much wrong with this building on architectural and town planning grounds and many hope that "lessons will be learned" from its overweening intrusion on the skyline and streetscape of the Square Mile. Time is not on my side to go into greater detail in this post, but there is a cogent and witty critique by Rowan Moore that has recently appeared in The Guardian that gives a good summary of just what is upsetting most (it seems) who are acquainted with the building.

The jolly thing is of course here to stay for the next few years and cannot be ignored, so it will probably make a few appearances in this blog over the coming months. Today I offer an attempt at conveying the one aspect of the W-T that I find in any way pleasing, but I should first offer the following caveat (or even mea culpa). Architectural photography has many pitfalls, particularly if you are shooting with a small camera, as I will be most days. Also, during the hours of darkness, all sorts of blotches, lighting flares and image noise can frolic and sport more freely in the digital playground. Add to this my getting to grips with the complexities of imaging software, and you have a recipe for bleary eyes, the burning of midnight oil and results that will have me laughed out of serious photographic circles.

Drum roll...

The north and west sides of 20 Fenchurch Street viewed from pavement level. The building, especially the restaurant garden area accommodated in its bulging summit, may be wonderful for its occupants and offer stunning views over London, but it bullies its surroundings in an outrageous fashion.  

A Year in Pictures – 4 January 2015

Today we went to church in Hounslow, where we have been worshipping for the last two years or so. After the service the Christmas tree was stripped of its lights and baubles. The rest of the decorations will follow.

At home after lunch, my wife and I restored our house to its pre-festive plainness. Back to work tomorrow—actually later today—I'd better get some sleep.

The baubles must go! Not my best-ever photograph, but you get the idea.

A Year in Pictures – 3 January 2015

The cat had to go to the vet today, but my wife and I thought we would do the decent thing and accompany her.

She had a skin problem and haematuria (you can look that one up). The vet, who had previous experience of our rather highly-strung cat, armed himself with a towel to shield himself from possible birds and scratches. As far as the scabbing of the skin was concerned, he diagnosed an allergy to flea saliva and recommended a better monthly treatment than we had been using to kill the critters. He said that the new treatment would itself became less effective in time as fleas developed resistance, but was confident that something new would be developed in due course. Let us hope he is right.

As for the symptom described by long Greek word used above, the culprit seemed to be exclusive use of dry cat food that left the linings of the bladder (yes, the bladder) under nourished and vulnerable to infection. So, wet food is now the order of the day (although we will give dry food sometimes as it is good for the teeth), for the next few days sprinkled with an anti-inflammatory to ease pain and discomfort and another drug containing agents to, um, build up the bladder as well as ease feline stress (goodness knows, our little cat could use some help with her general anxiety quite apart from the instant nuisance of cystitis).

The bill was not as bad as we expected and the wet food is being consumed with greater relish that the dry stuff ever has been. Perhaps our little companion will be even more of a delight to have around than she has ever been?

Smudge, now eight years old, and seen here after the ordeal of examination and an injection of the first dose of anti-inflammatory. Pretty brave of my wife to have her hand so close in the circumstances!

A Year in Pictures – 2 January 2015

This day saw the funeral of my youngest cousin, who died suddenly a few weeks before Christmas.

My wife and I drove to the south coast with my brother and his wife for the services of committal and remembrance, followed by a reception for family and friends in a boating club that had been a special place for my cousin. A number of more distant relatives had travelled some distance to be there and, although it was good to see one another and even catch up on researches into our shared family history, we all wished fervently that the circumstances had been different. There was laughter as well as tears and solemnity mingled naturally with humour to dispel the clouds of despair that could so easily have gathered around such an untimely event.

Rest in peace, dear cousin.

2015 – A Year in Pictures – 1 January

What a lazy writer I have become, the only excuse being that my health since treatment in 2011 has been good and that normal life has therefore been able to nudge, cajole and insinuate itself back into my available mental spaces. The motivation to keep writing has never gone away though and in the last year or so I have—as a two-fingered gesture to illness—been recovering my interest in photography, which was very near the top of the list of life's passions that I thought were lost to me in the initial moments after the shock of diagnosis in September 2010.

The daily round has been trying the nudging and cajoling routine with photography as well, but I have resolved not to let it, but—in the hope that assimilation will be the best form of conquest—to make photography itself an integral part of my ordinary life. Yes, I know what the proverbial paving material of the road to hell is, but I have resolved to produce at least one photograph for every day of the coming year and to post a selected daily image here. For reasons beyond my control (and that is just the foreseeable obstacles) some of the shots will not appear on the day they are taken, but I will do my best.

I hope that by the end of the year not only will the quality of what you see have improved, but that the walk through the gallery will have been an interesting and purposeful journey for us all.

Here is the first picture.

We dined with friends in Highbury, London, on New Year's Eve and stayed overnight. In the morning more friends joined us and our hosts for breakfast and afterwards we all went for a walk in the nearby streets. The goose that we had for our final meal of 2014 came from this shop. A few seconds after this was taken a young man walked into shot, which would have made it a better street photograph, but I deleted the resulting image as he did not look like he wished to be included.

Happy New Year!