Revolution within tent

22nd October 2011

Just been down to New Change, E4. Looking for signs of change around St Paul’s, down there at the tent village in the heart of the city. I want to contribute, to take part, but I don’t know how, so for now I just shoot, then cycle home. It’s funny, I normally enjoy being in a minority, but here the standout slogan is -we are the 99%, (where the other 1% are the people who have most of the money). It’s great to see people taking a stand instead of just taking pictures. I think the city hope this lot are more likely to be beaten by the weather than a police baton on the head. With winter coming they may be correct. But the people here, in the tents, are undoubtedly in the right. It is evidently time for our governments to make plans for the people, not their powerful pals who already have, literally, more money than they know what to do with. This is about finding a new, fairer way of living, with less consuming and more community; less power play and more pure play; success without excess; enough instead of far too much. Simple really.

Coco on Cafe Del Mar album

17th October 2011

The latest Cafe Del Mar – Terrace mix features a special version of Chris Coco’s Summer Sun and Harmonica Track, his collaboration with Captain Bliss. And some other rather good tunes.


15th October 2011

Today. For a change.

We left the city by train. And went to watch a version of the battle at Battle. There was a lot of shouting but no blood. Like we were all in a re-enactment of the last day of summer we strolled in t shirts and ignored the east wind. D and I had a shooting competition. This time it was a draw.

now that’s what I call a paint job

14th October 2011

This from She One at the White Canvas Project show. See, cars can be beautiful. But mostly only when they are taken apart and turned into art.

Coach A Seat 73A

10th October 2011

I love stations and trains. Arrivals and departures. Smooth running. Away. Free from trouble in a travel bubble. For the next two hours I know my place in the world. I am the passenger (as Iggy loves to say) in Coach A, Seat 73A. I have a right to be here. I know my place. I will keep still and quiet and read my book like a good quiet coach passenger should. And I will not think about the end of days. And I will not try to understand why even the cleverest economists do not understand, or perhaps choose not to understand, the economic situation. Because for the next two hours life is simple. I have a reservation. I bought a ticket. I have it in my pocket to show to the ticket inspector or, as he is now called, the Train Manager, though he does not manage the train, he looks at the tickets and makes announcements in clipped, strange, truncated words that nobody can understand. Pls b shr y tk all yr prsnl blngngs wt u wh u lv the tain. But at least we know where we are (somewhere between Didcot and Chippenham). There is no need to panic. There is no need to think about the end of day and the economic crisis that is supposed to be worse than the Great Depression, though it still feels OK, it still feels like people can cope, and buy the occasional beer or seventeen. Although there are no cloth-capped chavs wheeling wheelbarrows full of notes to the local Curry’s Digital to exchange for a flat screen LCD hi def TV, or even a loaf of bread. Though there is no great dust bowl swirling through the Potteries and the East Midlands. But I still don’t understand why quantitative easing doesn’t mean that everybody in the country gets an envelope sent to them stuffed with £1450 in £50 notes with a note saying – here you go – some cash to ease things. Use it or lose it. Love – the governor of the Bank of England. No, you know where you are on a train. Tkts Pls.