That’s me in the photo. Who am I? Those are deep philosophical waters, friend; let’s say I’m a writer and you can attempt to piece together more by reading the blog. My day-job is professional photographer. If you’re interested in that part of my life, head over to www.cadmusstudio.com
What is this blog/site/place? In practical terms it’s a space to show some of my personal writing and (to a lesser extent, some of my images). The phrase “a history of marks” is used by painters and illustrators – it refers to the way in which marks applied to canvas combine, overlap and build up. Some artists will bury initial marks, leaving the viewer to guess at what preceded the final image. Other artists purposefully peel back layers to reveal earlier marks. The marks connect. Sometimes the connections are coherent, sometimes mysterious, at other times even contradictory. That’s history for you! Your skin bears a history of marks; the scars of injuries, medical procedures, tattoos, piercings, wrinkles… a record of your life: sometimes coherent, sometimes mysterious, sometimes contradictory. Human society has left its history of marks across the landscape. Your city is covered in marks, from the smallest graffiti to the largest infrastructure cutting through (and into) the earth. And then there’s the act of writing itself, which is nothing but a history of marks. We make marks, we assign meaning.
Why? It’s a love song….to the city (my city and every other city), to its people, the music, the magic, the horror and the ridiculously whimsical. It’s an ode to the city that is neither the syrupy pastels of the tourism marketers, nor the desaturated crime tableaux of the evening news.
I go places, I see things, I want to show them to you.