Drying off

And what else would i be doing after black week? Culminating after black friday of course, the last friday before christmas, menacing only to those in hospitality! And what a week: unfovourable starts, fashion shoots, christmas lists and a tonne of work. I could’nt even lift it.

B’twixt it all,  the phenomonal strain of 5X4 negatives and fibre based printing left me in a zen-like state of compounded defeat…but once again the results compLETELY outweigh the process! Poor Pascaline, needing to stay perfectly still for focus she erupted into a 15 minute bout of sneezing, tears and general discomfort. Thankfully black and white hides red running noses. She enjoyed her smarties she told me.

But it’s hard not to take it personally for how long the paper takes to dry

The next step (1)

And this step is business cards. For how can one claim any business ethos without a card to make such a claim. They are very simple and lively with imagary. I was offered as many images as I wanted so I shortlisted a few and put the classic teddy bear in the header. They look lovely printed and I always find something really charming about viewing images in very small formats. They seem more precious almost.

I couldn’t help but think of American Psycho when I was putting forward the design; of a table of photographers trembling with unease as the inperceptable subtleties of their competitor’s cards shadow their own.

“That’s eggshell. And the font- Pale nimbus”


The great postal saga continues, laying down another mystery or mysteries.

As it stands, im running up a list of mad doubts about our stairwell. Ive only seen a few spectres in the staircase so far and whatever living that does go on in the 11 other flats, only seems to present itself at night. Which leaves the day. And during the day the post arrives-NO. The only time i get post is when im already at home. What happens when im out? No post. Its so simple.
And the post doesn’t announce itself with the curious papyral crumple that it does for most households. Certainly not. For me it starts with the buzzer. The old buzzer, leant from a disused prison perhaps, that was designed to catch me by surprise no matter what im doing. If I am waiting for it, staring down the door, anticipating….willing, you can be sure that I will  backpedal with fright into the shoe rack sending a mouthful of tea all down my front. What is odd about the buzzer?
Well the other flats have similar boat horn doorbells, and I have yet to hear one go off. In the silence of the night I have yet to hear one. So who gets buzzed to let in the postman?

Me. Everytime. I answer the door phone, “Postman. and in he comes, with his wide-eyed, pleasantaries, oblivious to his single mindedness.

So recently he brought me a package, more like a notice actually. It said:

“The sardine size of your post box will only accept about 18% of your post. Sucker”

Or something, and so began the very frequent chase to get things redirected before the weekend and without event. What had I ordered? What could be so big? Could it be the camera remote? Surely they couldnt have packaged it so large?

And so expecting something totally random and joyously large when i finally collected the package…

Thanks a million. Biggest box ever.