The stream creates the dynamism of a journey. There is no beginning nor end.
“All contemporary usage of Serial Imagery […] is without either first or last members.” (John Coplans)
The last couple of months I have been going through my archive to create retrospectivily a photo blog on this site.
For every day that I photographed, I will create a blog entry for that date with at least one of the pictures taken on that day.
It’s in this stream. I aim to go back as far as possible, to 2003 or 2004 when I started to photograph digitally and will probably end up digging up analog pictures I took in the 80s, and for now I hope to continue til the end.
I expect Instagram will be abandoned by photographers, Flickr already died for me – though I do understand and appreciate their approach, it is not for me anymore, Tumblr may rise again but it’s currently in s state of flux. I don’t what other online media will persist, except web sites. Hence.
It’s quite a task. I am up to date between last month and August 2020.
I will add a random posts option, so you don’t have to scroll back, for the people that don’t like that.
A week ago I had a few rolls developed. This night I found some time to scan a roll.
Surprised by a few double exposures I really like. The imperfection the the cheap camera, a Ricoh AF77, is lovely. I am beginning to more and more understand Bertien van Manen.
A walk through the dunes and along the beach that feels like homework today. Yet, finished it. Whatever it may be good for.
It’s an odd day, this 1st of April. Snow in the morning, heavy sun in the afternoon.
The last witticism of winter.
A walk through Haarlem. Dicks in chalk on the street. Industrial refactoring. A tree stump struggling against a grey wall. A white wall.
Not sure what to make of it. The chicken wire, the plastic bag, the chair, the daffodils are ingredients. But for what?
A odd spray pattern. A walk near Waarland. Everything is readied for spring.
A walk across the easter harbour area (oostelijk havengebied) in Amsterdam. More than thirty years ago this was a pretty grim area. Our band had a rehearsal room in this area. In my mind it was always dark on our way to the rehearsal room, and there were hookers, dealers and junkies on every street corner. It can’t have been that bad.