Daily dilemas of a degree educated writer with no foundation studies in English

Yesterday was the day my internal thought pattern imploded into a deep dark pit, I gave into the voices of despair, questioning, self worth and found myself in a little existential hole.  "What have I achieved? Why hadn't I made it when others had, what was wrong with me? Why was I such a failure? How am I still trying to follow a dream, shouldn't I just give up, its clear I don't work as hard as I should, want it enough, have the skills to actually deliver" As I embraced the feeling of doom, I realised that once the day was over with a good sleep things would be okay again, and they were.  I woke up revitalised and connected with some friends, the kilter had rebalanced, and I was back writing again.

Perhaps it was the rain, the 40 minute wait at a bus stop in West Footscray, the three hour journey home from a less rewarding clothing hunt, or the knowledge that I hadn't been fulfilling my creative needs (writing had died down) and spiritual ones (no yoga for two weeks).  It's hard keeping yourself in check, maintaining friendships from the other side of the world, talking grandly about plans and then actually following them through - trying to find excuses/options for escape, if was was in London this would happen or if I knew these people this would happen, rather than actually just getting on with it.  Doing is the most fundamental exercise in being good at something, without actually doing how are you going to get better?  Consistency is a difficult daily struggle, I long to be a person that actually came home after a full days work and was like 'hold me back I cannot wait to get onto this laptop, no sorry dear I don't want to watch that mushy film, I'm devoting my life to my macbook.  However it maybe something deeper than routine without recognition it feels as though I'm singing with great difficulty to myself.  Writing for can be hard at times, it requires lots of thought and deliberation.  Then there is a niggling voice at the back of your head that tells you how little you know, how undeveloped your skill is.  Learning to switch off the voice and enjoy the process as much as the final article, is the biggest skill.

Identity crisis

It's the change of season from winter to summer, you realise you've changed and so has your wardrobe. Knowing which side of your character to reveal through your blog is a tricky one. I've jumped around willy nilly for the past month procrastinating as to the best way forward. I've chatted to friends, enemies, old men at tram stops and I still feel I have a way to go before I'm ready to commit. For the interim I've switched to a rather hideous plane background, why, I have no idea, I closed my eyes and just clicked, I guess I thought I was in Coming to America for a split second. But what I realise is it didn't matter, anything that took me away from the sterile 'dynamic view' was a bonus, I missed my little side options, and links. Glad you're back with me fellas.

From Bristol with Love - Photographer, Kai _ Safe Harbour

Tall, bearded and built like an ox, Kai Murphy’s intimidating silhouette juxtaposes his soft demeanor and philosophical attitude. A photographer in the traditional sense he opts for film over digital on most occasions. Sourcing old, often expired films donated by friends, scavenged from ships, junk shops and car boot sales. When successful this game of film roulette produces a whimsical nostalgia not matched in the apps of the iphone 4s. His subject matter is often linked to very personal associations of romance, people and places. Seeking out the new, his work documents a journey from initial meeting to a more developed perspective as the relationship progresses.

What I liked about Kai was his delicate nature and the energy and passion bursting out of him when he spoke of his work. He really believed in what he was doing, and went about it in a calm, organic way. Originally from he countryside he grew up on the river in a houseboat close to the border of three counties near to where Kate Moss now resides.

 

Martina Randles: You cite yourself as an absorber of cultures, what does this mean?
Kai Murphy: It means I can’t stop thinking about everything that I don’t know. My Granddad told me an amazing thing once “Those who don’t know history are deemed to repeat it”, I think about this all the time.

Martina Randles: What inspires you to take pictures?
Kai Murphy: The same feeling that you get when you hear an amazing piece of music… something just clicks, your gut rolls over and away you go.

Martina Randles: How many cameras do you have?
Kai Murphy: I own about 40 cameras, not all are working. My favorite camera to use is my Adox Sport 6x9. The oldest camera I own is also the biggest a Hunter Penrose process camera from 1893, I’m still looking for a decent wheelbarrow to transport it.

Martina Randles: What's better film or digital?
Kai Murphy: Its not a case of which is better, its more a case of whichever you prefer to use. When I get my hands on a friend’s digital camera I’m like a kid in a sweet shop, I can’t stop pushing the buttons. I’ll take a thousand pictures in one fell swoop. When I use film I am much more aware of the situations I get myself into, and the environment around me. I owned a digital camera once; it cost me about £150 it broke after a couple of months. I bought a 1967 Olympus Trip from a charity shop recently for £5 its still working today. I think it’s whatever floats your boat… film floats mine.

Martina Randles: Why did you decide to go to India, to you find yourself?
Kai Murphy: I have never had any intentions to find myself; I think if I ever did I would end up in a feedback loop of doom. I enjoy finding other people. I ended up in India because I was jealous of my girlfriend who had just bought tickets to go. I had just packed in my editing job and decided to join her - then discovered she was trying to get away from me.



Martina Randles: Have you ever been blown away by a photograph?
Kai Murphy: My friend Tom Mead took a great picture of a goat in China.

Martina Randles: You were a film maker before photography, how was that?
Kai Murphy: The film industry is fucking horrible yet it is utterly addictive chasing a dream, you discover you didn’t really know what the dream entailed - it becomes an endurance test.

Martina Randles: What are the differences?
Kai Murphy: To me photography and filmmaking are the same thing. I love to tell stories and to understand the natural narratives and rhythms that are happening all around us. A photograph is a film but with no exposition.

Martina Randles: What's Bristol saying?
Kai Murphy: Bristol is saying grab me by the balls or I’ll kick you in the ass.

Martina Randles: Where do you plan to take your work? 
Kai Murphy: Well I just took it to the Dollar Street Gallery, but anywhere in the public eye is great. This year my goal is to make a book and have my cameras pay the rent.

Magical White Rabbit

Wow, the White Rabbit gallery home to contemporary Chinese art took my breath away, on route to the airport post late lunch we took a detour to what I initially thought would be a shoe box sized gallery. Down an unassuming side street the glass paneled doors opened into a spacious four floored building home to painting, photography and sculpture. The works posed important questions about the world we inhabit and where we they human race is headed. I was overjoyed to find art which surprised and delighted.  Most striking were the images of an overweight panda, rabbit and dear, each plonked in the middle of their own painting surrounded by broken down apartment blocks; large scale illustrations of humans hung alongside animal carcass; giant tree sculpture and Ai Weiwei's path of porcelain puddles. I wish I'd had more time, instead of a whistle stop tour I plan to return for a second visit, the array of Chinese teas in the cafe was enticing enough to tempt me back.

 
Liu Di's surreal photographs of gigantic animals squatting in suburbia
 
 
Black and white painting, giving an almost photograph feel


Easy to get lost amongst the sea of sculptures


Current photographs of Burmese prison camps by Lu Nan