C O L O U R B L I N D (l i t b l i n d u r)

Colourblind is a micro-study of colour. It is a project occupied with a lovely idosyncracy of life, that less is more. Much more so in Iceland, where there is a lot less.

Colour that is. Vast, forbidding stretches of rock and earth however. Great unfathomable recesses of ice and shale? There are lots of these. A landscape quite foreign to a human touch so that the eventual pockets of civilisation appear with luscious fingerprints of colour.

This project unearths a tiny, brilliant spectrum of activity that levels a balance to Iceland's volcanic landscape. The fruits of a hard earned optimism by Iceland's people. These photographs are miniture monuments of cheeriness and a glorious two fingers to a howling wilderness of semi-darkness. 

These prints are currently on display in the worldly hub of unhurryment, Rocket Cafe, for sale and for pleasure. If you suffer from blindness or chronic fatigue with photography, you could try the coffee. Its worth the trip in itself.

This project was shot during July on my travels in Iceland on colour film - the chronic chromatic kind. I simply couldn't be more pleased.

Photography by eoin carey

ethreephoto@gmail.com

Just outside my window

I haven't done this in a while, had a day off. Nah, but all the last few weeks' posts have been work, work. And why not? We're all working and we're all doing our darndest. But work and play have started drawing lines and with work the camera comes out so with play the camera stays in the bag (by the radiator). I'd never get anything done if I kept taking photos, and worse again, I would never appreciate them for their own precious peculiarities.

So you'll know what I'm about to celebrate then? The snow.

It has been down a few days and it had a truly breathtaking arrival, but the only thing it is taking now is its toll, on an unprepared Britain. And everyone's grumbling. And why not? Snow is the boxjellyfish of the elements. Its so beautiful to behold but it is so surely lethal. It hardly takes a day to realise it. It can strangle an infrastructure in a night and put an unprepared civilisation on the brink. If it is to be enjoyed it must be tamed, and that is no mean feat. But this is a challenge for a greater mind. Instead, I am all for the enjoyment and the danger. Leaning wide eyed and hypnotized into the jellyfish nest, chewing at its tentacles and wearing it as a hat, ready to wander up to my waist and have some fun.

The power of the snow for me is it's deception. It transforms your back garden into an unrecognisable alpine pasture and your town into a majestic château resort. Where grey skies mean only rain in Ireland, It is so foreign to me that I just cannot keep down the excitement when I step outside into the morning. Everywhere becomes empty and silent in a powdery drift and I'm filled with gladness - shrieking with wonder through my scarf and hat. Everything slows down to the steady pace of icy boots on the creaking ground. Shoulders hunched up, looking out at strange scenes. The landscape changes so much that there are no boundaries. You discover minutes too late that you've wandered through someone's garden. A new hill turns out to be a car. Abandoned artefacts and traces of passers long gone gently white brushed away.

I'm so thankful of the camera. Without it I would stay my course and keep the head down. But it challenges me to set off and explore, to make that single three foot trench that stretches off into the distance. To see what wilderness a modern city can become, chuckling like a kid from inside my hood.

Thanks fellas.

Alternative Processing

Today was a special day indeed, listen in...

I've not done a great measure of grumbling over the last while, but it would only be to spite how hard the last few months have been. This semester of photography school: hells bells. The plate has been full for everyone. And no amount of all night labouring can scratch the scales, the work keeps coming. It has been fast paced and massively technology driven, streamlining our image capture resources, which is why 

-cue circus music (and jugglers)-

we've had to get back in the darkroom.

Our module seeks to turn our deft, keystroke fingers to the craft of alternative image making. I feel a bit "Ta-Daa" about it all, its so out of place with the pace of the year. It involved no less than 8 hours standing in the same place, swilling chemical compounds, mincing pigments and teasing out a trace of an image from our sodden papers through our tear welled eyes. If this post was a DVD it would have a huge out-takes section with us slipping on each others prints and falling head first into the wet sinks (that circus music again) Today was a great day for that old familiar feeling of patience.

Alternative processing is a   s  l  o  w  process, it is designed with pain in mind. But when there's nothing on the cards but patience odd, fun things start to happen. You stop rushing about, music come on, someone opens a bag of bombay mix, you stick meticulously to one print for an hour getting it perfect - its all your favourite things all of a sudden. And i have 3 prints to show. 3 fabulously flawed creatures. Like 3 children of my own, and just like the dream child, one of them is a t-shirt.

Choo Choo, the cyanotrain.

Cross country

East district league cross country today. Out in the hills. And the wind. A ceaseless sky, heavy and low, searching the hilltops. Its vapour working on our every stitch of clothes. A pervasive, backwards dampness. And meanwhile...

Lumbering bodies, the great migration of a some great species. A herd of lycra and numbers. Limbs lank and soaking. The march forward, as in a dream.

Yeah, wrong way Karen.

Breaking Convention 2010

I was asked to shoot Edinburgh's Breakin's Convention '10 this week. A success and a class act at once. I'm not going to lower myself by trying to come over all "street", but it was really inspiring to see such a tight core of local talent throwing down for hundreds of spectators.


Since I am running up a tab on sports photography at the moment, breaking tied in perfectly. Perfectly in that it was pure challenge. Whirling, addidas limbs. That's what I saw. I'm a little relieved my camera could slow things down a bit but even still- wild blinding speed! The theatre had a temporary checker floor in for the festival (giant chess style) which was held by local breakers, MC Tony Thrills, a score of awesome DJ's , beatboxers and a wicked drummer, and if it wasn't a celebration of looking a bit silly, it was one helluva celebration of youth. Gals and guys from 7+ all got to show their style and got timed in to the beat. Young boys being young boys couldn't get enough attention, I guess its something we never grow out of.

Brought me back to the old days when i was once hip and with it. And the beauty of break dancing is no matter how much of a cynical, youthless despot you are, you can't help but be compelled and want to join in! So shake out your tracksuit pantaloons and  commend your accomplices. Wording!