Perous Secret Diary - Keep Out

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I am a ghost...

...walking through london.

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TTT

walked from kings x to clerkenwell through old haunts

past* the flat i used to live in when i was at Polytechnic of Central London, doing a degree in photography, film and television

down through great sutton street where i had my first photography gig: working at click studios, for free

had tacos for lunch, with my agent

and dropped in at his new office on old street: the same street i used to live on, in an old fire station, above dazed and confused magazine.

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these streets were full of people like me, doing things like i was doing

there were labs, magazines, design companies and a palpable buzz of creative excitement and possibility

now there are only strangers, tourists, and and memories of another time

this is a repeating cycle of inevitable: nothing lasts forever: 'everything changes' is the one constant you can rely on

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walked west from Clerkenwell through to John Lewis on Oxford street

taking photos on a shitty Sony, 'vlogging' camera, listening to music on my headphones and feeling invisible: like a stranger in a city i used to feel part of

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stood outside vogue house which is now empty and gutted inside, looking forsaken

seemed significant

got myself to 76 dean street and started watching the podcast 'too late with Dave' that i did last week

not my best performance

no excuses, but i was rushing and left out whole chunks of stories

i don't like the introspective, backwards looking nature of photography podcasts, and have a fundamental issue with needing to talk about photos and the relation between words and pictures

we are losing the art of seeing and capturing: it is being replaced by 'creative' writing

you can now make a picture with words

that isn't creative, or photography or what photography is about, at all.

i'm not into words: i'm into pictures

dinner with my dear friend scarlet (page) who is also a (great) photographer

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pictures and words

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scarlet took me to the national portrait gallery 'the face' magazine 'culture shift' exhibition launch

which was quite wonderful

bumped into a lot of photographers and friends i havent seen in years

including sean (ellis) who i used to live with in that old fire station on old street, in 1996

i never shot for the face: i used to aspire to: i tried sometimes

but i was never part of the required mechanism

and now we're all looking backwards, not forwards

this is not forward thinking, or forward doing

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high vis invisible

weird day full of memories and flashbacks

left the show as my friend chris (Floyd) was arriving: he'd blagged in, saying he was 'Robert smith' knowing Robert smith wouldn't be there, but who was on the guest list

had walked 7.5miles through London by the time i caught the train home late

lovely lady Lucy at the station to pick me up

Perous Secret Diary - Keep Out: February 18, 2025