:::::::::::::WARNING: uh, drugs, self-destruction, self-indulgence and isms::::::::::::::::::::

Way back in the murky mists of time, when townies roamed the land and I had a keen dislike for myself and the world, I was once enrolled on a photography course.

This is somewhat the beginning of our story.

I sucked in the darkroom. I also sucked at doing coursework – mainly because I had a largely apathetic attitude towards it and everything else. I lived on a razor between nihilism, existentialism, hedonism and post-modern bohemia. The city was my wasteland. The city was my playground. Darkened rooms with stacks of CDs and MDMA were my natural habitat. Words and metaphor were my God. The beats’ and the beat went on. And on.

Man, I miss those years. When pretension was just another way of saying “I don’t give a fuck”.

I’d enrolled on the photography course because the previous year I had fallen in love with film after doing a film studies course. As film was just photography 24 times a second I thought it would be a good thing to check out. I had bombed out of my other A-levels through:

A) being in way over my head for reasons I won’t go into right now
B) aforementioned psychological states.

We worked with black and white film and analogue SLR cameras. And we worked in the dark, with the film, as was the mode for developing film by hand. As i mentioned, I sucked at it. I’m bad enough at doing things when I can see what I’m doing.

When I finished the course I ended up with an E.

Anyway, over on this old-ass blog you can see all the B&W pictures that I submitted for my coursework plus a bunch of colour ones shot digitally a few years later around the time I was at film school. There’s some nice shots of the freaky shit that you can find in prop departments.