Matchbox Gallery ‘Street’

So as mentioned the other day, last Saturday saw me exhibiting at the 2011 Photomonth Photofair at Spitalfields market, in good old London Town.

First of all, I would like to say thank you to all those who came along.  It was a great day where I met loads of lovely people, had some very interesting conversations and learned a lot over the course of the day – and this of course goes out to the people who didn’t buy anything as well as those who did!  Doing fair’s and such like is a great way to get out there, get feedback and meet the public at large.

At the fair I was showing something new that I have been working on the past few weeks and so I would now like to unleash it on all of you – the all new Matchbox Gallery.


This went down brilliantly at the Photofair and so many people asked me if they could buy it online…well, due to popular demand, I felt I better make it so!

Therefore, I am happy to declare the newly revamped and now self-hosted OurWorldMyEye shop…OPEN.  I was going to get a big name celebrity to do the opening, but sadly – they were all busy.

However, I encourage you to check out the shop here (or by clicking the handy link at the top of the page) and having a look.  I will be updating it with various items over the next few weeks, so watch this space!

But, before I go, you know me and it isn’t all about trying to pedal my wares to you – so as a selfless act of giving, I thought I would also share with you my various musings from the day as recorded in my trust moleskin.  I often like to scribble down some musings when I am on  the move to pass the time.  Musements I like to call them (I have never called them that before, but will now!).



Sometimes I get those moments when I catch myself thinking ‘ what the shit are you doing’ and at 5.40am, slumped over an unappealing and very modest splash of a cornflake/muesli combination bowl – I had such an uttering.  Of course, when you initially agree or decide to do something, the practicalities are not the first thing that spring to mind.  With me, almost always the first thing is ‘yeah…it’ll be fine!’.
Now of course it will be fine, even fun.  YES, its true – I sad the F word. But, at some to 6am as my wooden healed, Jones the Bootmaker Desert Boots (in olive) clomped over Hastings streets – deserted all bar discarded chewing gum splats and a clutch of die hard explorers.  Dressed in too many layers and carrying too many bags whilst wheeling the largest and most undesirable shopper in the county – looking like a well to do tramp out on the daily routine of prospecting for nuggets of aluminium?  Yep, now the thoughts of doubt rained free in my generally optimistic mind.


Just witnessed a lady embark the train as her North Face clad South Faced partner barked last minute orders on how she should alight.  He watched, slightly to an uncomfortable atmosphere as she sat and bedded herself in for the journey.  His face peering through the window next to her seat – spliced in two by the frame that distinguishes the less than generous opening segment.  She adjusted her scarf arrangements and foraged in her bag.  QUICK…the train is pulling off.  Like a flash – she makes a heart shape from her hands and presses them against the glaze – chilled by the early morning air.  Here, she retains her position until the awaiting partner is out of sight.
Oh dear, does it relate badly on my that things like this make me wince and not coo?


No doubt dawn was invented to make sure anyone up early enough to witness it, is rich in visual satisfaction.  It is the one thing I never fail to look forward to when I venture out at times in the morning, that as a child sounded like they never could exist.  What starts at regret is soon overcome and battled into submission by joy.  Some people protest at the daily worship with the suns first and last stretches – some people like my brother Dave.
Dave can be right, but never in such matters where we disagree and I am clearly correct (based on 100% fact and 100% intuition). Dave would argue that it happens every day, so whats the big deal? BANG WRONG I would often cry (in my head, to myself) as I sat glancing at the sunlight on that evenings carefully selected perch, with a young and always enthusiastic Gosling as my partner in visual crime.
Dave likes a sunset or rise, don’t get me wrong – he isn’t a yellow dwarf star Nazi or anything, but a silver lining to an early AM it would not be.
But as I sit here, my body starting to twitch to life sporadically as lashings of thick reviving caffeine penetrate my extremities – I am again basking in the delights of a new dawn.
Even on a grey day like today, the events are exciting.  It seems at first like nothing much will happen & the tones of the world will – shift from very dark blue to rather dark grey.  But sure enough, a deep hue begins to enrich everything under its throw.  The details of now defunct silhouettes start to shout, soon shadows to appear.
Then after busily looking around the first glimpse of sunlight is glimpsed.  Seeping over the horizon like a new spectacle and darting the richest and warmest pantones over the deep blue wash of the sky.  From here each second throws up a new light, colour or perspective…until…at some point you cannot quite pin down – normal daylight is achieved. No fuss is made – the epoch ancient ritual is again complete, never to be seen again, only aware to those who saw it and were given a unique experience. This is the dawns gift – it happens every day without fail, but like a game of chess, it can never be the same twice.
Of course, what Dave doesn’t know is on this morning, I choose my sunrise soundtrack to be a mix he did called Submerged.  It’s basically House & Techno lullabies (his words, not mine).  It seemed suitably appropriate for the circumstances and warmed my belly to know I was getting one over on him, from hundreds of miles away, while he sleeps and doesn’t even know it is taking place.  One over on him because I have forced him to provide the soundtrack to a little daily miracle that he can take or leave!


Funny daubings of Graf tags spotted on route so far:

Wino, Laterz, Bagz, Gosh, Asbo, Hoover, Freelord

Also saw one crossed out too – in the same paint.  So the writer must have been so miffed with his effort he scribbled it .  Ironic given how shit all of his other tags were anyway!


Smile and greet. Smile and greet. So goes the day at an art fair – full of optimism and full of trepidation – it is all about the first sale.  Until that point, the ongoing fear that you are a total looser weights heavy on the brow.
Breaking even on costs seems to be my usual lot at such events.  Coming away rich in interest and contacts, but not so rich in wealth!  this is fine however as I never enter the frey expecting more – and find the experience reward enough. BUT, the real bain in this case, is what if I sell none of the heavy stuff and have to get the trolley of doom back across the drink enriched streets & travel systems of the capital!


Random acts of kindness.  I think it is those unexpected acts by people which are all about supporting or doing something for another that really make the difference and stick with you, if you are the lucky receiver.
Today, I was the recipient of one of those acts.  My Dad, having read news of my exhibiting at Spitalfields on the blog, drove up and into London and made a complete surprise guest appearance at the stall to say hello and check out what I was doing.  It made my day.
However, the same chap (Dad to me) has trumped most for random acts of kindness.  When my graduation clashed with his holiday in Greece – he traveled back to Brighton overnight – by train, plain and automobile – stayed for the ceremony and dinner and then returned to Greece the same day by automobile, plain and train.
That is true kindness.


I should get me into this high falutin world of smart phones.  That is some clever shit & too many times recently I have known the value I would have received if only my phone were smart enough to get me out of a travel pickle or provide valuable info on the hop.
Yet my phone is, in reality about as intelligent as a massively stupid buffoon, perhaps even stupider than that – who knows?  All we can say for sure is that it is more a thick phone than smart phone.  Here is a chart:



I fear I have strayed from the topic here.  The reason for my tale was to express my distress for how much the modern man/woman is plugged into things.  On the train & tube all faces now stare down into the void of iPointlessness – cramming in every extra second of some naff game or one more nose into someone else’s Facebible.
When not a phone they are reviewing their still fresh memories on the back screen of their digital imaging device.  Perhaps they are watching or working via the curse of free wi-fi on a laptop.  Technology no doubt enriches us – I love it, but by becoming an iUser, does one have to stop looking at the non-iWorld around them?
What happened to window watching, playing cards with a travel companion, or simply enjoying the rare chance to sit for an hour, doing nothing, watching nothing & just being?
Just looked up from pen & pad and glanced at the scroll-board of destiny.  Still got 8 stops to go – Christ I’m bored.  If only I had a smart phone!!!

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