January 2009
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Month January 2009

I Withdraw Access To My Face

The Hidden Workshop


Oren Lavie – Her Morning Elegance

Strange Magnetism


Morning Over The City


A cupcake morning!

Project Glowyrm


The eyes.

The terrible eyes!

Fearsome, isn’t it? Originally constructed to crush the aspirations of other art students and laser their snacks, it guarded a hoard of Legos within an old box until a day ago. Now it freely surveys the desk of the fool who freed it… dreaming of electric flame.

It does not sleep. It does not eat. It complies with all FCC regulations… and it will never give up. There is no escape.

I Dreamt You Were There


A Survey of London’s Remaining Darkrooms by Richard Nicholson

The disappearance of the dark. (via MetaFilter)

This project, shot on 4″x5″ film, documents London’s remaining professional darkrooms. It is based on my nostalgia for a dying craft (there are no young printers). It is in these rooms that printers have worked their magic, distilling the works of photographers such as David Bailey, Anton Corbijn and Nick Knight into a recognisable ‘look’.

Specific darkroom memories I cherish:

  • My teacher gazing at one of my early prints made with a glass negative carrier, shaking his head, and saying “I don’t know what kind of war you’re going to have to fight against dust, but you’d better get started.”
  • Emptying a burst of compressed air into the thrice-cursed glass negative carrier every time I adjusted the negative strip, changed the negative strip, looked at the negative strip wrong, or took a breath.
  • The scent of chemicals in the air.
  • Mild chemical burns from the stop bath.
  • The manifestation of magic as prints entered the developer.
  • Leaving the darkroom at midnight to find my car under 2 feet of snow.
  • Listening to This American Life while printing pictures of abandoned places and people I miss.
  • Hearing the ticking of light timers in the semi-dark.
  • Reaching into the paper safe and wondering if this would be the best print ever.

Anyone else?



Alphie the Robot used to teach me how to employ words and identify shapes and colors. There was always something satisfying in the way that row of lights responded to correct or incorrect answers — as well as the physical aspect of the lamps themselves.

(The condition of the electronics is now dubious, but it would be a candidate for circuit bending if I had more time in my schedule.)