Monday, March 26, 2012

Weekend traveling: Ogmore-by-sea and Llantwit Major

Spring made an appearance and it's being most wellcome. I have loads of bairgains and also new acquisitions to my shop to share with all my imaginary readers,but for now I'll leave you with some pictures from last weekend.


This weather and some other random things made me think how it seems to be so fashionable nowadays to know a bit about everything, to be 'informed', to do loads of stuff, to be productive. How 'different' became enough to consider something good. 'Did you like that ballet?' ' Oh yes, it was different' (code for ' I didn't understand anything nor did I feel much, but I don't want to look ignorant')  We are still so worried about our images about who we think we should be that we often forget to actually BE. We are so worried about doing many different and unusual things that we forget the simple pleasure of drinking our everyday cup of coffee looking through our (everyday) window. We are so fascinated about being interested in loads of things, so fascinated about being informed about things that sound important and/or cool, that we are more interest in the idea of being interested than in the interest themselves. We are so worried that our time being productive that we forget about the importance and pleasure of just iddlying. We burry our ghosts deep down where we can't see them and believe we are becoming these incredibly deep, ecletic and developed persons when in fact half of the time we are only adding extra decor to our masks. We should be worrying about becoming better human beings, respecting others and finally start respecting the planet......as much as possible at least. We should be worrying about other stuff by now. But we aren't. Not in general and not most of the times.


So this post is also a tribute to iddlying, to the people who manage to just be most of the time, unworried about what others will think of them. It`s also a tribute to lazyness, to being uncool, to being nothing special, to being unperfect and laugh about it. To having fears, to not being adventurous, to not having special talents, to having tacky or cheesy tastes. A tribute to everyday life and to deepening what is familiar. A tribute to silence.



































































Friday, March 23, 2012

Memories from the 70's

When I was little there were these two posters in the wall of my parents' bedroom. They were both very tipically 70's, and I absolutely adored them. Looking back now, they were definately a bit cheesy. Ok...maybe a LOT cheese. Which is probably why one can't find many of those posters around anymore. Still, I cherish the memory of them and would love to find some similar ones. Actually, one of them is still pretty much 'findable' It was a black and white pop art sort of image of a woman. The other one was  a romantic sort of picture of a woman with I believe it was some roses on it, all in red and rose tones. Yes, red AND rose all together AND some roses as well....I bet you're all nearly puking now!

This picture edition is a sort of tribute to those two posters, a mixture of them both, or rather the little I can remember of them, as they were thrown away years ago. After much experimenting, I was happy with this last result. It brings back loads of memories.

There was also another poster on the living room (which is where I used to sleep). It was one of those very typical pictures of a road with autumn trees on either sides of it. I absolutely loved that one as well. I can't really remember if there was a bicycle on it or if I just kept imagining myself going down that road on a bicycle.

I can remember those 3 posters from such a young age, 4 or 5 years old I believe. Looking back now, that's probably where it all started: my love for photography and the capacity it has to transport us somewhere else instantly. My love for strong colours. The urge to explore, to go beyond everyday world. Those posters belong to my childhood world. A world full of colours, of secret wandering through woods that existed only in my mind, a world in which Tarzan lived in my attic and I lived in a boarding school just as Enid's Blyton's girls. A world full of books, images and beautiful illustrations. A world full of dreams and imaginary friends.