I’m on Lonely Street, number fifty three.
Boarded up property,
I’ll probably get pulled down.
Litter all around inside there’s
no sound and no light.
But yo it gets busy at night, People creeping.
Derelicts sneaking to fix. Speaking.
On the way my timbers creaking,
Roof leaking. And bricks coming loose,
knee high in refuse.
But even though I’m a slum,
I’m still of some use.
There was a time when my walls where decorated.
And under my roof children where educated.
But now paint’s faded, windows are all smashed,
a crash in the economy robbed me of my family.
And no strategy, combats negative equity,
so that’s it. Like violence it’s drastic.
I’m freaking, and seeking to be
more than just a house for crack.
Somebody bring my family back.
Underlining the theory and well known saying “You can’t polish a turd” is this one off and mostly unremarkable shot. It was by no means a keeper to start with and is probably less aesthetic now than it was before I took the sledgehammer to nut approach with the processing. The only reason it’s made it this far is because I haven’t updated this for a couple of weeks and this is all I have to show for the break. Taken in my ‘office’, this was part of a set, messing around and experimenting with different apertures and shutter speeds. Lit only by the screen of the Mac, this was originally a reasonably well exposed but otherwise slightly out of focus, bland ‘snap’ of my wrinkly, pockmarked and saggy face. Let it now serve as a warning to avid experimenters…(though in my defense I looked considerably better before I started messing about).
OK, there’s not really much you can say about leaves, and this one isn’t any different to a million others. A lonely leaf, singular, and unique clings to a rosebush throughout the harsh winter.
If anyone is even remotely interested, this was taken through the glass windo of a conservatory, handheld at 300mm using a Sigma 70-300mm Telephoto Lens. Other details are as follows
Camera: Canon EOS 30D
Exposure: 0.003 sec (1/400)
Focal Length: 300 mm
ISO Speed: 800