To be sure, to be sure

You meet some characters in the sinn fein bookshop in Dublin. To be sure.

Coney Island of The Mind

Ebb and Flow at The Pleasure Beach















Blackpool is one of the saddest places that I have ever been. It has an air of Brighton, of Coney Island, of The Gold Coast, basically of any bygone, past it's heyday seaside town. The cold winter air, and deep grey skies push the misery along, a bit. It is one of the most amazing places that I've been in a long time. I have been looking forward to this for a few weeks now, and it's been nice to have a day off, and some time to bundle up and wander around town. If you could call it a town.
















It's proximity to The Irish Sea seems only incidental. Would it be any less brightly lit or garishly adorned if it were inland? It is obvious that the people who came here, and who still do, never had much money. It was an affordable getaway. I like that about it. My camera has some presets on it. There's a low light setting, one for action shots, one for landscapes and one for portraits, but there is no 'just a shade lighter than black, bleakness' setting.

If it were at all possible, the following day brought the rain, and with it a heavier sense of eerie sadness. In my travels I found a little shop that sold 'fags and poppers' among other things. I came away with a joy division shirt for 2 pounds. Bargain


















You heard!















The venue was really incredible. The Empress Ballroom is an old sprung-floor dance hall. It was picturesque until we tried to put a bunch of shit in the middle of it.

Well-adorned.

This show was one to file under 'seemed like a good idea at the time.' Due to the building we were limited in our options of where to put things. As it worked out everything ended up in the same place. All 36 led panels, all in a row. At the end of the day one of the guys came up to me and said 'let's not ever do this again.' Seemed like a good idea at the time.

It looked pretty great though, like a giant TV with poor reception hanging above the stage.

Entourage. Ever expanding.

My friend James and his friend drove out for the show. We worked together for a long while. He very much resembles a large baby. Oddly enough his friend did too. Must be something in the water. I hadn't seen him in what he calls donkey's years.
















Thus began the string of days where good friends come out to the shows and the world seems like less of a vast, lonely wasteland. Just kidding. It's still a vast, lonely wasteland, but with friends who come hang out with you and wear gun muffs because the band is too loud...

These also may be the same friends who the following day send you photos of their cat dressed up as a superhero because you said it sounded like a good idea.

Just when home seemed so far away.