JOURNAL - MAY 2019 War Reenactors: Temple at War, Essex, England.

Before the arrival of the major war reenactors gathering in England, I decided to head north to a smaller event to see what the general setup involved and what I might expect to find at that bigger festival.

The trip was quick, lasting around an hour and luckily the rain held off whilst there yet the heavens opened as soon as I had left and I was thankful for not getting caught out in what became a torrential downpour. I managed to get a mixture of different photographs but I’m mostly happy with the one shot that I got of a father and his son tinkering with there weapons in the bushes at the edge of a field. Others I met were happy to talk to me about their passion for their hobby and I feel blessed every time someone lets me in to their world and opens up about what it means to them. I greatly look forward to the larger event later in the year. In general, the practice of street photography has altered for me slightly, if not completely, in that in its traditional sense of simply wandering around and photographing life and the moments noticed and caught within it, I oftentimes feel more compelled to seek out and focus my efforts entirely on my stories and projects; I’m generally more content and happy overall in that arena.
Moments are still present in the things that I choose to now photograph, I just simply choose to focus on certan things that I personally have some interest in, or more-so, a deep curiosity about. Another product of my time in street photography and why I am choosing to shift my focus away from it and the community within it, is the toxicity of some members of that community, or a certain insignificant section of it at the least. The manifestation of ego and privilege - the occupation of clique and the banding together of groups that can set themselves against others with cruel unjustified intent for no apparent reason, is sickening to me, and those doing it, the Justin’s and the Didi’s, have no place in my life, nor those associated with them - nor does the community that surrounds the practice of street photography in general; the tiresome scrolling through mediocre work - the podium and plinths upon which some terrible photographers are lauded and praised, is something I can no longer muster up the effort to trawl through. I can only hope that those that have little time but to seek out opportunity to concentrate on trash talking and hate, will one day come to know just how small their world really is.
But apart from their shit, looking through my own crap is tiresome enough and tedious in itself.

The sun has decided to show face. Ample time to head out. Looking for anything to accommodate my fancy. No interest in the humorous - that’s for the masses and the mass of work that’s out there depicting this and only this is fucking mind-numbingly boring to me. The tired cliche, which I am not immune, sends me into a vex and frustrated stupor from which it takes a day for me to forget what initially riled me, and I can finally, once again, unfold.

The carriage and caravan of the visitor; the shoulder bumps and the unwilling to move out of my fucking way of the local; the noise and the sweat - all welcomed, if only for a moment in the hope of displayed emotion or the expression of self amidst the chaos that I hope gives birth to it, for me to capture. There’s a fine line between odd and humour in street photography for me. Humour bores me to fucking tears. Oddities arouse curiosity and questions. I don’t mind the odd.
The odd in a scenario as a whole more-so than the odd nature of a person - odd people in large cities are ten-a-penny - odd circumstance and scenes, however, are more elusive and rare. Those are the moments that I tend to capture if at all possible between those two things, but as said, they are rare for me. They most likely surround me, but I guess I simply cannot see them. I oftentimes wonder if I can actually see the world at all or if I am merely meandering along oblivious.
For now, though, I am simply following the U.K Monopoly board which consists of various places in and around London. It’s not a project and is somewhat tedious, but as I have yet to fully explore London - albeit having been here for ten years - I have decided to finally undertake the Monopoly board to simply kickstart an attempt - any attempt - at deviating away from my normal routes of which I have become horribly and horrendously tied.