Saturday, 30 November 2013

Banjo's & Foggy Fields - A session with Abbie Irwin

This is one of my favourite musician collaborations to date. Abbie is so much fun, a real ball of energy and I didn't realise how much fun it could be working in the foggy gloom.
I'll definitely be using this beautiful dreariness again for more photographs as it really gives a bleak wintery atmosphere that I'm quite fond of. A quietness. A peace 

Thursday, 14 November 2013

How Anxieties leak into our Dreams

It's always the same place; A leafy forest that bathes itself in the late afternoon glow of an infinite autumn. 
For a second there, I feel completely alone. I can't even hear bird song, the rustling of wind in the leaves or a crunch of twigs under the foot of a fallow deer. It's almost as if I'm the last human on Earth, and everything has ended. This forest is all that's left, with only me in it. 

After a while I begin to realise, I'm not alone. How silly of me; I'm seldom alone. It rarely leaves me any more, I try so hard to lose it. To run away. To hide. It always finds me. every single time.

It's a presence... always lurking in the background. guarding me from the rest of the world. Attacking anyone that comes near me, keeping me all to itself. Is that why I'm the only person left? 

It's ok. Its not so bad here... I have everything I need to get by. Sometimes it's even nice, the loneliness. 

Often, I even go looking for it, like a masochist. I've grown so used to it's company, that I beg for its return when it's gone. I watch it curiously, not sure If I truly understand it, nor it me. Sometimes we watch each other like a silent elderly married pair, that have nothing left to say to each other.

Sometimes we walk side by side

and sometimes.... it gets me. 

walking with anxiety,
A short Photo story
by Sarah Porteus

Model: Keren Margetts


Sunday, 3 November 2013

Sleep Walker

Wide open spaces. A void. Foreverness. 
I love beaches, be it a small cornish cove, or a bleak and enormous stretch of sand and windy dunes. Living in a city, even one as small as Bath gets really claustraphobic, and sometimes for no reason at all you need to drive 40 miles to the nearest bit of coast and violently assault your senses with harsh wind, salty air and an infinity of steely grey spread out before you, inviting you, taunting you. 
I've grown up on the sea, its my life. I know that sounds like a cliché statement, but living by the sea really does affect you in some way (Or it does for me at least). I think mentally I dry out; I need water the same way a plant needs sun light. My happiest state on earth, is floating; floating on the waves with my eyes closed with a salty breeze on my face with the cool water swilling about my fingers and toes. I don't care about cold water, I don't care if its the evening and the suns going down. I love having a beach to myself, and feeling like I'm the last person on earth. I love feeling as though the sea is a friend, a foe and family. Its a friend, because it is always there for me, a foe because it challenges me and sometimes frightens me, but family because I've grown up with it a part of me. I cannot survive without it. I can't even describe its importance, words don't always fail me but to describe the sea they do. 
Often, if not every night I dream about the sea. I dream that I should swim to a desert island, and live there forever eating coconuts (Which actually taste edible in my dreams :p) Sometimes I dream I live in a small wooden shack on an enormous grey lonely beach on the Scottish islands, and I have each and every day to myself to just stare at it and never spare a thought for society and its regimented monotony. 
One day, I'll return to my home county and I'll be comfy and I'll be happy. I'll spend my evenings sitting wrapped in a blanket curled up in the dunes watching the stars come out, or skimming the waves with my fingers on my surf board, or discovering little sea critters and shells whilst snorkeling on the rocky coves around south Cornwall. One of my favourite things to do, is to swim upside down, so Im looking upwards at the surface of the water, and I can see the sparkles of sunlight dancing. Sometimes I lift my fingers out to touch the air, and its the most remarkable feeling. I've rambled too much, but today I feel sentimental; no matter how many cups of water I drink, I still feel as though I'm drying up. 

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