I’d been wondering why my photographs had been looking so awful recently… but it wasn’t until yesterday that I thought to look at the settings on my phone camera and realised that it was set to the lowest resolution.
For years, if you lived in my neighborhood, you could pick up a French radio station, which plays the best music. And, they only speak for a minute an hour, and it’s in French, so it is totally cool.
Now, we all assumed that because we can practically see France from our bedroom windows (ok, they might just be clouds…..), we were somehow picking up this radio station, in the same way that French TV gets transcribed across the BBC when a thunderstorm is brewing in the summer.
It was a guy with a big thingy, picking it up in Hanover (muesli hill), and rebroadcasting it.
Anyways, as it was technically therefore pirate radio it was stopped- after 10 years (the longest continuously running pirate radio station in the UK, btw).
However, it is available online. Which I am hoping means that my Australian soriety can also listen to it.
I am trying to do something a little different- for me. Which is to paint on wood panels, rather than canvas.
It’s been interesting to think it out… what do I want to paint, how do I want the finished painting to look etc.
The really interesting thing, is that I actually started off painting on panels- but that was acrylic and the colors were solid blocks- kind of stylised and ‘flat’. These are going to be a little ‘different’ (which may well be a euphanism for rubbish)
I did take photos of stage one- the blank panel, and stage two- the initial drawing, but they didn’t come out so great.
“Former prime minister Tony Blair has won a one million dollar (£697,000) international prize for his “exceptional leadership”, it has been announced.”—
That’s it, I quit. It’s over. I’ve gone bye-bye. The dolcellate has slid off my cracker. The world has gone tits-up and I’m resigning my position as a functioning member of society. If anone wishes to join me, I’ll be bollock naked in the street tonight hurling my rolled-up socks at the moon. (via errorgorilla)
They gave what to who now?
ErrorGorilla, if it wasn’t so cold I would be fully clothed throwing my socks too.
February 14th 1998 (?) was a Saturday. And the weather was amazing. It was warm and sunny, and the beach was packed.
Just before 5pm, a guy came running up, begging asking me if I could come and do something for Sky News. I’d done little pieces for the local news before, just pre-recorded vox pop stuff, and it didn’t seem like a problem, so I said okay.
We had to run to the West Pier (which is a little ways away), and he seemed flustered- but I didn’t think anything of it.
It was only when I arrived to see the camera and sound guys that I realised that it was going to be live. It was only when I saw the ear piece that I realised that I wouldn’t be being ‘interviewed’ by the guy that had come to get me, but by the people in the studio who I could not see.
The interview was about the weather. About the fact that it was so warm in February, and that as it was Valentine’s Day all the hotels were full.
As we waited for my little slot, I could hear the news programme through my earpiece, and all the shouting talking in the gallery. Gerry Adams was right before me, talking about the potential breakdown of the peace talks, the Good Friday Agreement, and I can remember how completely absurd I felt.
The producers in London wanted the camera man to re-film the sunset we watched. They were angry that the camera man couldn’t manage to get the sun to set again.
Then it was my turn.
There was a sound delay, so it felt as though the people speaking to me were waiting for me to continue, rather than reacting to what I was saying… but it started off okay. They asked me whether it was warm. Was it busy. Were people enjoying themselves.
I felt I was doing ok. Then, they asked me what people had been buying….
I’ve never had any kind of media training, but I’d attended a meeting with the local council the previous week regarding marketing strategies. I knew that the idea was to promote Brighton as a sophisticated and family friendly town.
So, I felt I couldn’t answer truthfully, and say that people were buying beer. Instead I answered that I worked in the Artist Quarter, and people had been buying paintings and cushions(!?).
They asked me if there was anything else that people were buying.
My brain was trying so hard not to say beer, that I couldn’t think of anything else. So I told them that one of my neighbors had sold a table.
The delay started to freak me out. The panic started to set in… what do they want me to say? I knew they were waiting for a magic answer which would mean they’ll stop asking me, but I couldn’t think what it was.
So I blurted out… “and earrings, people also bought earrings.”
At the exact moment that they started to speak, and wrap up the interview.
They laughed. And the woman on the news said, “so people on Brighton Seafront have been buying tables and cushions and earrings today?”
And then they thanked me, and I died a little.
Because as the sports guy made some crack about how much fun it must be selling paintings on Brighton Seafront, I realised that they had wanted me to say Icecream.
I hope the Times is right about this, because I have long believed the autism-vaccine link is a total myth.
I don’t know if you will have heard of Ben Goldacre- he writes for the Guardian every Saturday, and has a blog compiling his columns, which are called Bad Science. he dissects media stories about health and science. He has a lot of entries under MMR, but this one in particular may interest you: