View small
randomised gallery
A week before Xmas and the the government Hokey Cockey's another lockdown; must take me first-born's name off that posh school's list.
We sat in the gallery, me on the low padded bench, she kneeling on the floor, wrapped against the winter. Her posture powerful, yet submissive. I tripped here once, synaesthetic choral roar of the paint.
The soft form of these boards remind me of a cartoon kangaroo I once saw. Their battered and frayed shape, scrag ended, leaning against the public bogs, warming a bleak corner.
Five mins of interweb says this is a Type G postbox. Further scarred by the 1999 nail bomb attack, it felt like Postie Roulette offering an envelope to it's carious maw. Fear not, it never failed to deliver. Sadly swept away when they repaved Electric Av.
I lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum.I lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum.
I lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum.I lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum.
I lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum.I lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum.
I lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum.I lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum.
As a school-boy I worked in a supermarket on Saturdays. These are 'brutes', irascible, wonky-wheeled conveyors of canned tomatoes, soup, beer. I wore an unwashed brown polyster uniform, the vinegar reek of the compactor, unbrushed shoes. Eager.
I lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum.I lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum.
I lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum.I lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum.
I like these 'problems', the orchestration of elements within the frame such that they find a harmony pleasing to the eye. Everything belongs. I recall summer evenings in my bed aged three or four, staring at the abstracted musicians on the blanket, making their shapes line up.
I lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum.
When they say 'hedge fund', they mean 'asset stripper'. In Brixton the asset is the cultural commodity 'authenticity'. Sadly the paradox of gentrification sees authenticity diminshed with each succesive purchase.
We're still subject to movement and association restrictions but it is as nothing compared to the crystalline stillness of those first weeks last spring, an end of days vibe in the bog roll aisle.
In Wales that weekend we got lost on the hill. I took a picture of my mate with the map. Back in Brixton, I turn into Atlantic Road, my camera at the top of my rucsack.
These donation boxes stood sentinel outside shops through my childhood. The figure would have a cage
lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum
Mum took me to nursery on the back of her bicycle. Three gears, a folding child's seat, two metal supports as arms, a low back. It seemed dangerous, like the big slide in the park. Ten years later I saw a crushed bike, a dead child just removed.
I like the happenstance that occurs in amongst the serendipity of the dumped, the patina and plaimpsest, the graffiti'd hieroglyphs that come and go so very quickly. The disorder is pleasing in its refutation of the bourgeois order. All that is solid melts into air... ;) xx
I lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum.I lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem ipsum.
Granville Arcade, rebranded as 'Brixton Village', and the light is diffused through the grubby skylight. Built in 1937, the listed building is being slowly given over to micro restaurant start-ups seeking that elusive transistion to corporate dollar.
Gloster had Caribbean and Pakistani populations in the '70s. We lived by the mosque, a knocked-through semi opposite the bakery, and then after moving. I'd watch the tall black men from a high window, trouser bickering with ankle, stepping proud toward the Sound at the end of our road.
- the real deal: brixtonmarket.net;
- BrixtonMarketDOTorg - you say hedge fund we say asset stripper;
- Brixton Cycles - your local bicycle shop co-operative;l
- Bookmongers - your local book shop;
- also Somerleyton Road & VNEB.org;
- and the mothership: teddave.org.
- - -
Be kind for everybody is fighting a great battle...
site BxDG| 2014 - 24