rambling photographer - David Potter Photography

David Potter Photography

Pink Elephant

28/1/2021

Scratching my head, peeling back some loose skin around a finger nail. Anxiety is creeping in.
Times past begin to play on your mind, how it was seem a long haul away.
It's strange, a year ago or nearabouts myself and a colleague whilst working away were cooped up in a pub b+b trying to explain the ways of the world in a lock up with a landlord and his 'Chinese to blame for everything' stories. This being on the cusp of the initial wave, alcohol and a late night made the evening's discussions the entertainment that it was.
As the news steadily worsened from abroad whilst on that trip, the weary thoughts on how this could develop were still distant but a feeling of fear on a work level was playing in our minds. After all, our events industry concerns people and usually a large amount of people close together. What could still take place in an empty space? This, like low alcohol beer shouldn't happen. It's unprecedented. It would expose the importance of the performance, the event, the conference, the occasion. Without this industry goes the promotion, presentation, the sale, the memories and escapism.
The real life disaster movie has taken place, twelve months of downs and more downs. Only now we are all trying to survive to reach the end credits.
My health has stayed intact and those closest to me the same so far and touching wood. So I should have no reason to complain other than being only left the pink elephant to photograph.

Doing it yourself

3/12/2020

Locked away from all the systematic change outdoors, encapsulated in a world of renovation and down-sizing.
With the dwindled calendar of photography work, an opportunity to pretend to be a plasterer, decorator and fixer of houses.
The wonder of YouTube and "how to" clips and suddenly we are all professionals. The pretence begins to whine down once those first ripples of un-straighten walls bulge and shadow in low-light. Fortunately my days in photography are not numbered just yet.
Curiously this full time fondness of all things DIY has led to an upsurge in drinking coffee. I had never realised there was a connection and occurs generally as soon as you reach a snag in your work. Those moment to ponder and reminding yourself from Eric the Welsh plasterer's YouTube channel once more.
Come post lockdown/ post tier down there is a lot of finger's crossed for next year from 'to be married' couples, event organisers and suppliers. But being pragmatic, it's a long road to recover from this year's hurricane of bad news. This time of year may have been usually reserved for reflection and celebration of the last twelve months, but instead it's more of forget and hope.

A month becomes a few months and soon becomes a year

5/11/2020

Smiling through gritted teeth as the calendar changes to a new month. The empty charging cable for my phone dangles from the socket redundant but symbolic. The homemade brew of attempted cider sits still, not energised.
The dullness of the year now highlighted with autumn tones, the larger picture of colour seems wasted in these polarised times.
Dreams of times past and of times to come, wishful thinking says some.
A sporadic diary of work now crossed out with a P for postponement, don't be fooled by a photographer who say they are busy.
Our house is nearly newly plastered throughout, a brilliant harvest of garden vegetables as reward. The first frosts bite the shed roofs and car windows, let them sit there, I'm not going anyway fast today.

A year ago

17/6/2020

About a year ago I was dithering on this photograph that I had taken the week before.
The crooked angle was more by accident in this case as my main concern was to capture the intimacy of the moment with a bit of location.
Anyway I also tend to have a unique photography condition known as "crooked photo angliteous " which I take adequate amounts of Adobe to correct it so that it is never really that noticeable.
But the main issue was what to do with the wandering Joe public who had decided to dare to stray into my shot at this precious time.
As I hadn't barked at them (the two background strays I'm talking about) in the right allocated time the plan B was to decimate the walkers in post production. Easy enough to do whilst the focus stayed with the loving couple until I thought let them stay and be remembered. The reason for this was their own contribution to the day. They had shouted their congratulations to our handsome couple once we had been caught up by the long striding photo bombers.
I never asked MR and MRS if they still like this particular picture with the long socked and cagoulled walkers. If they don't, I know where the eraser tool is and it's not far from the angle tool either.

Going for a walk

10/6/2020

The freeze frame is melting, life and work begins to return but hopefully slowly.
Hedge verges stand like undisturbed triffids grabbing the sunlight and freedom from the cutters. Wildlife sounds, with their magnified decibals echo down country lanes. It is a unique time to exploit the camera in nature.
The month of June is always full of colour but everything out there is exaggerated, spoilt for choice for picturing. No coincidence there are no planes flying over, fewer cars bustling past.
Alone in thoughts, the extraordinary has left a blank calendar for a few months but a blank canvas to refill. It could be for the better long term.

Bread

2/5/2020

An un-necessary amount of lycra now sports the pavements at any time of day, is it too late to keep fit? New routines, new leaf's turned, new ideas to fulfil, new projects to take on, life has suddenly become shorter.
Every task has become more thorough, so many more nails are being hammered. Dusty and dirt from neighbouring DIY projects, we are in this for the long run. No one can move as everything has become worthless. Make do and mend. The war slogans are back in fashion.
Yet I still crumble to the out of season of hot cross bun which my bowels hate. And it's nothing new to start re-making my yeasty bread, time that I had previously put towards editing pictures. One day there will be a revival of being a photographer again.

Garden lockdown

16/4/2020

The grand splendour of Springtime, forced upon us to enjoy in lockdown.
The refuge of the garden shed to regain a sense of normality, a tranquil escape from the fear of what may come next.
Photography suddenly becomes a pastime in a literal sense, the writings I write have more familiarity with back garden anecdote forums than photo whizz promotional blogs.
Solitude and stranded, awaiting the first go-ahead event. Set back to June at present but expecting later.
Not needed as a volunteer, nor a seasonal picker, at least our potatoes got dug in.
The blossom is in full pelt, causing my eyes to sting and my nose runs more than the stream in the woodland below. My sniffling scares the old dears in the local co-op.
The smogless days and the only human noise is either another lawn being cut or a gossiping loud neighbour who ignores her safe distancing (which in her case should always be another street away).
Really this should be testing times, putting your back into those picture experimenting tasks to make you a better photographer. I'm content thanks.

noisy January

17/1/2020

The sound of drilling as our builder concentrates on demolishing the back wall of our house. It is a photographer's DIY period of the year.
Another expletive but a chuckle at how hard our bricks are. The full throttle of his work vibrating the laptop screen so much to give a whole new meaning to camera shake whilst I summarise through last year's pictures.
In a way January is always stressful, scheduling hopeful work for the months ahead after the heavy recuperation of New Year celebrations.
This time the added burden of builder Bob (he could be Phil, John, Ron) and the task of deciding bathroom and kitchen layouts with my other half. My job as a photographer has taken a backseat until that correct bathroom shade of colour is agreed.
So please do invite me away for a cup of tea even if you don't require my photographic services right this minute..

garden leave

10/11/2019

As a form of meditation and escapism digging a vegetable patch in the back garden has taken precedence in these mixed weather days we are having. A chance for my thoughts to meander, and my shooting finger to recuperate from those gruelling 1500 picture weddings.
Through the quieter times a reason to look back and update the website (see weddings 2019). Possibly the most hardest issue as a photographer is to be your own critic. Hence why my selection from this year of so-called 'best of' may not be everybody's 'best of'.
When I look back on a wedding picture selection I hope to see a collection, it's the way I mostly shoot. I don't want a single individual brilliance, although it might help to have that flare occasionally. But instead I try to portray a storyline with stills, generally I get it.
That's what makes it harder to pick out the highlights, the day was the highlight, the memories were as well. The single frame is for the artist, what you learn from and work with from the masters in the field of photography.
Currently I am being bombarded with entry requests for wedding photograph of the year style competitions. How do you judge? They were not at the wedding. How would they know the picture reflects any truth, where's the honesty in some super-duper back lit spectacular image? They aren't going to except my picture of a groom smashing a defensively clearance in an impromptu football match during a wedding reception.
Rant over, one more plot to dig.

summer19

18/10/2019

Mustn't grumble, the summer season wasn't all that bad. Through wind, rain and occasionally very hot sun I explored new corners of the East of England with a bit of London thrown in. Different smily faces, laughs and tumbles. The occasional drunken lurch towards my camera but mostly I was an un-noticed observer, an artist waiting for the second to record.
And not a single "I don't" at the alter, no hairy moments apart from the odd gust of seaside air in Southend (is it always windy there!?).
The fright of thinking I was attending the wrong church on one wedding, only to realise I was an hour early. A battery death on a precious cake cutting moment, resolved with a minute's delay and a fresh set of power for the flashgun. I'm only human.
Recommendation though; If avoidable don't try to move home during a week of four weddings and a party, because there is only seven days in a week.. I apologise if anyone attending those weddings heard my creaking bones.
Only now have the thousands of images taken all been processed and presented. My square eyes staring at a computer screen are having a breather, resting with some outdoor Suffolk air whilst digging in our new garden.