#959: Under the Bridge
Glasgow is bisected by the M8, which leaves an indelible, ever busy scar across the city.
#958: & Co. Ltd.
It’s reasonable to say that Glasgow is not the prettiest of cities, particularly if you compare it to its neighbour, Edinburgh. Having said that, there are always ways to see beauty in decay…
#957: Glasgow 2014
The Commonweatlh Games 2014 took place a while ago now, but I have not long finished working through the hundreds of images I took. So, over the next couple of weeks, CKPonderings will be giving a warm nod to the city of Glasgow and the sporting events.
Originally posted on Just Me:
This is also the third of my Influences series that features photographers whose work has been a inspiration to me as a photographer.
Dorothea Lange (26 May 1895 – 11 October 1965) was born to offspring of German immigrants in Hoboken, New Jersey as Dorothea Margaretta Nutzhorn. Her father worked as a lawyer and was elected as a state representative at age 27. According to historian Linda Gordon in Dorothea Lange: A life beyond limits, Dorothea, like the other iconic photographers, spent years learning her skill before reaching her peak.
“After Lange graduated from high school, she decided to become a photographer—even though she’d never even held a camera. Without introduction, she walked into the New York City studio of photographer Arnold Genthe, famous for his photos of the dancer Isadora Duncan, and talked herself into a job as a general assistant so that she could learn…
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#956: Portrait of Lewes
On a recent visit to the picturesque Sussex town of Lewes (a very civilised pub crawl of the bet real ale haunts the town has to offer), I took a number of photos (I am never one to miss an opportunity!). These are some from the day.
#955: Ironic placing?
I guess the main thing you want to know if you’re going to go speed dating is Who you’re going to meet?
#955: The Watcher
Across the snows he came, slowly, determinedly, relentlessly. He did not interact with anyone, but nobody could escape his presence; nobody could every forget that they had seen him. He may fade from memory, but the feeling he left you with – the total sense of dread, loss and despair – stayed with you no matter how hard you tried to move on. Daylight brought some reprieve, but the night time, well the nights were where the memory of him resurfaced, seeping into your dreams, scratching at your thoughts, disturbing your repose, leaving you stretched, breathless and utterly without hope…