Tag: writing

Sit Rep IJM

Posted on Posted in Black and White PhotographyTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 6 Comments

Disclaimer Alert. This post talks about sensitive subjects but should be read, even by my mother. Not everything in this world is perfect. We don’t all have perfect lives. It’s not all toxic positivity. Listen first to the Deep Dive talking about this article.

Not great to be honest.  Today was not a good day.  Today was particularly shitty.  Well more pissy and shouty, but more about that later.  Let’s get something straight.  Despite what might be said in this article, I love my daughter and wife very much.  I just don’t like them a whole lot.  I can’t fucking stand them to be honnest.

My daughter is turning out to be an entitled little shit that is a typical teenager who thinks the world revolves around her and that we must all bow down and accept every whim and of course respect her and talk to her nicely.

Dad, are you on your meds?

Not effing likely.  Why should I take them just to put up with you?

So not at my best…  It would appear that I have survived blue monday.  But only just.  My “darling wife” is right in the middle of menopause and thinks HRT is only good for giving her cancer.  Intriguing thought to be honest.  At least like that I won’t be getting shouted at any more for being a useless shit show despite all the work I’m doing on myself,  I’m still a waste of air.

Stop doing that thing you keep doing!

Breathing Dear?

Why should I even bother taking the meds?

Because why should I take meds just to put up with you?

Good fucking job I love you.  

Maybe I should just jump under a bus and put them all out of their misery…

Shame I actually like my son.  He’s a good kid.  He took me out to a lovely restaurant for my birthday.  Then we went to a ‘retail outlet’ for me to buy myself a present which is adorable but I need to declutter and have too much shit in my house..  The clutter is doing my head in.

Ah well.  It could be worse.  I could be back at work…  One of my great fears.  At the moment the fashion seems to be to treat your staff sufficiently not too badly for them to be put on leave for depression.  Oops! Well that worked out really well.

Birthday on Monday and if anyone wishes me a happy birthday, I will be screaming at them internally, swearing at them and cursing them, whilst saying “thank you”with the appropriate grace.   

And no—

I don’t want to talk about it.

I don’t want to heal.

I don’t want to find meaning.

I just want it to stop!

For precautionary self censoring reasons, don’t jump under buses. You might damage the bus. You probably won’t but safety first eh! Help lines:
🇨🇭 CH: 143
🇫🇷 FR: 3114
🇬🇧 UK: 999 or 116 123
🇺🇸 US: 988

Notes, January 2026

Posted on Posted in Mental Health, ReportageTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 6 Comments

Welcome to this strange new world—where nations are treated like commodities, and young people stay silent whenever they don’t feel concerned.

I’m not talking about the clusterfuck that is Trump’s lingering shadow over Venezuela, or the absurd spectacle of U.S. leaders eyeing Greenland like real estate. Nor am I pointing fingers at the eerie quiet from European students and campuses while protests rage in Iran.

Maybe I’m not saying the world is going to hell.

But let’s call a spade a spade: something vital has gone missing.

Any sense of decency—gone.

And what a good job I’m not depressed.

Oh wait.

Shit.

I think back to a year ago—to the China tour—and how I still smell it on my skin. Not literally, maybe. But in the way my pantry fills with new ingredients, in the way I stir-fry now without measuring, just feeling. And the sauces I make…

Google Photos keeps nudging me: “1 year ago today.”

And just like that—I’m back there.

A before and after.

Definitely.

I see the same friends at rehearsals and revel in the memories we made.

I also look to the future. This sick leave has given me space to rest—and I feel the energy slowly returning to this body of mine.

On New Year’s Eve, my son did some “daddy-sitting” for me. I shared the evening with his friends—and for once, I didn’t feel like the spare tire, or a discarded condom in a student halls of a residence.

I felt… present.

The beard is gone, and of course my daughter hates it. At least she didn’t cry this time, like when she was two.

I’ve actually gone out and shot some film: a roll I started during summer holidays and finished in Montaigu, and another I exposed in the cathedral in Nantes over Christmas.

The first photos I’ve taken indoors since the fire.

I’m getting there.

Trying to be present in this new crazy world—where our leaders are anything but leaders, and older ways of doing things seem to be shifting beneath our feet.

I don’t know where we’re going.

But we certainly seem to be on our way…

Come along if you like.
I’ll keep the window cracked — just enough to let the light in.

Sir Foxy Foxalot

Posted on Posted in ReportageTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 12 Comments

I have been writing for this blog since 2019, and it seems I am still here, sharing my thoughts on photography and its role in my life. Photography, alongside music, appears to be one of the few things I do quite well. Another talent, it seems, is writing, as evidenced by the fact that just over 13,200 of you have viewed this site over 51,000 times since I started this project. I’m not saying this to show off, since for a British subject of His Majesty King Charles III, it is formally forbidden to blow one’s own trumpet—a social faux pas—and, were I to be completely honest, the behaviour of a cad!

However, when somebody else does it, those social cues are no longer applicable. Sir Foxy Foxalot — aka Fox Reviews Rock for those in the know — does the same kind of thing as I do. His expertise lies in Rock Music and Heavy Metal, genres I might not be very knowledgeable about. However, learning something new is always a voyage of discovery. We have been following each other for some months now, gradually learning about our different worlds and coming to appreciate each other’s forays into the blogosphere.

Recently, he sent out a message asking for volunteers to be interviewed by him and answer some questions on Rock and Heavy Metal. Being the decent chap and all-around good egg that I try to be, I said that despite my ignorance, I would be delighted to participate.

Despite my limited knowledge of the genre, I did spend three years working with the famous and infamous Christophe “Bobonne” Bonnin, who taught me all I know. He introduced me to a certain Tennessee Bourbon, a favourite of the late Lemmy, bass player and singer of Motorhead, and an all-round legend. Lemmy has a memorial at Hellfest in the quaint village of Clisson, which becomes the centre of all things Metal once a year. I even learned that he had a custom-made case for his bass, with compartments for said Bourbon, his bass, and a packet of cigarettes. Despite the much-vaunted medicinal properties of the aforementioned Bourbon, don’t overdo it, chaps!Let me tell you more about the man behind Fox Reviews Rock. Like me, he has dedicated himself to writing about his passion, and despite having been at it for a relatively short time, he has acquired quite the following. His output is impressive, and he maintains a very high standard. He has also had the great intelligence to surround himself with an excellent writing team. His articles, though about a subject I know little about, are always a good read. I also enjoy the structure of his blog. Check out his weekly schedule here. What more can I say, except get your pretty self to his site and check him out. It’s quite the blossoming project, run by those who are passionate about their subject. Tell him I said hi!

PS.  Here is the link to the article they wrote about me.  Go and visit it right now.  Off you go.   No messing around.  You’ll  like it!