RGB Awards 2012 : Bristol Festival of Photography [BFOP]

Getting a little excited about this now. I’ve never been to a photography awards evening, much less one with two of my own images accepted [from the deeply personal The Anatomy Of A Stroke series*]!

* Thanks to the continued support and encouragement of my father. Who, incidentally, finally looked at the whole series – partly prompted by this news – only late last week.

Although… {Glances at watch: 5:30pm Wednesday} …I’d much rather be happy and relaxed. I got the two images printed a couple of days ago, but I want to include the text in the frame, too. And, as it’s not something I’ve done before, this is being stubbornly problematic.  [Or am I being stubbornly problematic?!] Anyhoo… I just desperately want to strike the right balance between image and text, especially so the latter, being in the frame, doesn’t overly distract from the former. I finally plumped for square frames yesterday. But with other life getting in the way and time rapidly running out, inspiration [and printing!] needs to punch me in the face very soon.

{Fiddles with worry beads and rubs lucky rabbit’s foot}

Oh, and it’s these two:

No. 73


He walked a thousand miles. And when he got there she had gone. Nearly 20 years earlier. A terrible, creeping, insidious cancer. And in those final days, although he would never know, she had said his name. Softly. Quietly. Until her last breath. As the door closed in front of him, all he could do was stare. Empty. Hollow. He’d wasted a lifetime to reach this conclusion. And now, her door, once as bright and welcoming as her smile, was cracked and weathered; etched with the memory of her passing and a naked reflection of his own aged and time weathered face and hands. In the cherry tree above his head a blackbird sang its plaintive tune. An echo of her memory.