I'm just going to have to trust you completely...

 
 

 
 

 
 
 
 

 
 

 
 

Well it's up! I meant to take some photos of my space in the Brixton Art Co-op today to post here, but completely forgot whilst I was there. I will soon.
I'm pleased though. Relieved, and pleased, and strangely relaxed about the whole thing, it has actually been a joy. The whole experience has been really good for me.

Just as I was begining to find some sort of hope amongst the chaos that is my livingroom wall, I am temporarily thwarted by the printer. My attempt at at money saving has backfired, the printer knows I have tried to fob it off with non-branded if 'compatible' merchandise and is not having any of it. grrr.
In fact, it's been one of those days for this morning I had an appointment at the surgery to have yet another smear test. 6months past so quickly, and so I see's the nurse, and she says to me, 'Did you tell the reception it was for a smear test?, only I'm not trained.' Grrr..
So I had to make another appointment, and of course thats got to be in a weeks time.

Bloody test. Always in the background.

For some ridiculous reason, I put my name down in the book of the newly squatted Brixton Arts centre, to have a bit of wall space. Well, they phoned two days ago to say my turn had come.
Why? why? Why have I unleashed such inner torment upon myself?

I've searched the house for images, covered the walls with dodgy snapshots of squatted spaces, realised after all these years, that they're all crap, useless.
Well, perhaps not useless for reminding me of stuff, but as for showing them to other people...in an arts setting...
I feel ashamed for all those years I actually called myself a photographer.

I wonder if I've done myself a disservice by excluding all the protest and festival pictures. They're all much brighter and up lifting, and perhaps better, although I suspect, if they were on the wall right now, I'd be just as dissatisfied.
I've got to put something up, if only to save myself from utter dispair, and private humiliation, but what?
All I've done so far is thoroughly untidied the flat and depressed my fragile sense of well being.

 
Tea in urban setting 

We went to St Agnes Place today, because we'd heard the eviction was coming soon. No one seemed to know what was going on, but there was a strange, eerie even, atmosphere. It reminded me very much of walking down Claremont road the first time..
I walked up and down the street uselessly, I didn't even feel comfortable taking photos much because, so many people were sitting at windows, mostly behind curtains, checking me out, I guess they were checking out the activities of the two community cops who were strolling down the middle of the street taking down all the vehicle numbers actually.
I wonder how big their resistance will be. Have they got something tucked up their sleeve, or is Lambeth going to brutally slay its last great squat without further opposition.
It's the Rasta headquaters ffs.
Bob Marley was there.
It's just plain wrong. Redevelopment in the area could have lived alongside this heritage site.
This place deserves to be defended.

More views from my flat window, taken shortly before a massive thunderstorm.