Turner by the sea

Turner is one of my favourite artists; his eye for colour, his capturing of light, his obession with water. I look at his art and realise how much it has inspired a lot of my more abstract work. I look at his work and it speaks to me on a level deep in my soul.

I took the train down to Barry island today. The moon was nearly full and its light fell down on a distant, far out sea and in its glow the beach became luminous and beautiful. I wanted to capture that ghostly feeling, that feeling of the awe and subtle mystery found in nature that's so present in Turners work.

As I took photos I reveled in the oranges, blues, whites and yellows found in the pictures I was taking. I took pictures of the light reflected upon the sand, the moonlight reflected on the water and of the glowing multicolored neon lights of the nearby lights of the attractions there.

And as I took pictures I imagined what Turner must have felt like capturing pictures by the sea.

The colours of decay

For me autumn is a time for the beautiful and slow creep of decay as the season ticks slowly over into the depths of winter. The leaves change colour and sweep off the trees, the air becomes crisp and cold and wind and rain lash member of the public poor enough to be caught without an umbrella on their commute to work.

It was this sense of colourful decay that I set out to capture with my camera today. At first I was setting out to capture the changing of the season through the subtle shift of nature in the urban world, but as usually when I actually got halfway through taking pictures the emphesis had begun to change.

I grew fascinated by the disintegrating posters that had peeled away to leave layers of vibrate colour behind, the rusted garage doors now covered in metallic street art and the vibrate graffiti scrawled over the streets of Cardiff.

Entropy had caused the world to drip and melt with a rainbow of hues and shades. And what I had come out to photograph had changed, instead of the natural oncoming of autumn I had caught instead the urban world's vibrate colours of decay.

Abergavenny: the gateway to South Wales

Based in the rolling green hills of monmouthshire and perched inbetween three beautiful mountains. Abergavenny really is a great place to get away from it all.

Whether its to go hiking, explore the castle ruins, wander around quaint shops or enjoy the food festival that occasionally rolls into town Abergavenny really does have a lot to offer its visiting tourists.

I had had the week off work and so rather then sit around the house I decided to get out and do some hiking. On a whim I took the train to Abergavenny, as it pulled into the station I didn't regret the decision as I was immediately welcomed by beautiful sweeping vistas.

I set my sights on one of the nearby mountains and after procuring some supplies I set off. The path led me over a rushing river, by a beautiful local church and up onto an enchanting canal that was home to some lovely houses and a couple of sleepy looking boats.

After taking some time to wander along the canal I doubled back and followed the trail back up mountain and into some woods straight out of a fairy tale. I've never happier then when I'm in woodland so I relished the chance to be out in nature like this. After stopping to eat some lunch I finally broke the tree line and was rewarded with a great view across to the surrounding far off mountains.

When I was on my way in I didn't realise how close Abergavenny was to where my step father had been laid to rest at the foot of the Skrid mountain and it was a slightly emotional moment for me. Still it was nice to sit and take in the view and think of old times.

Afterwards I took the trail back down into town and over the meadows to Abergavenny castle. Unfortunately it was closed by the time I arrived but its ruined glory was more then enough to enjoy and take photos of. I finished my trip by heading into the town centre itself and nursed a coffee in one of the many shops that lined the centre. The friendly local banter left a smile on my face and as I left for the train I was happy that I had come and explored this beautiful place.

This blog post is in memory of my stepdad Berwyn Rogers, rest in peace Ber.

And the sky wept colour

I had been getting a bit bored with the photography I had been doing and had really started getting the urge to push myself. We all get there as artists, feeling stuck in a rut and wanted to push ourselves artistically but not really being sure how to do that.

A walk down to the sea near where I live really helped with that. What started off as an exploration of the rubble strewn beach slowly an inevitably became a study of a sky that began to weep with colour.

The fact that the area was fairly industrial certainly as the street lamps and electrical pylons that ran over head criss crossed the sky, accentuating the strange and vivid shapes that the clouds formed overhead.

I stayed until the sun went down, until finally all the colour had been wept from the sky and the stars finally emerged. And I left happy and truly inspired.

One perfect moment with God

"When I walk on the path, when I enter the house of Love I see you. You are the King in every town. I see You in the sun, the moon and the stars, I see Your altar in every plant, in every leaf" - Rumi

Now I don't have what you would call a typically view of  God or divinity. I'm not Christain, Buddhist or Jewish, but I do have a strong appreciation for what I see as a divine source that I feel acts upon our world.

And one of the times where I do truly see or feel such a force is when I'm taking photographs, you see for me beauty is God and God is beauty. Now when I say that, I'm not talking about beauty in a shallow way (like say that person is beautiful or those clothes look really good). I'm talking about the types of moments when I see clouds drifting across an endlessly blue sky, or sunlight dapples through leaves or the small moments of human kindness that you might see in everyday life.

And its those moments that I love trying to capture on film, not to try and nail down God into a photo but to try and share those precious moments when one is alone with something truly, truly beautiful.

Cambodia: Prasat Preah Vihear

After life in the hectic city I decided that a trip into the unknown would be just the thing to get my travel juices flowing. I therefore set my sights on the far flung mountain top temple of Prasat Preah Vihear.

This beautiful ruin is set on a disputed region high on the border of Thailand and getting there proved to be by turns fun, frustrating and and adventure in its own right. At first I thought my journey would be relatively simple, I booked a bus from Phonm Penh directly to Preah Vihear, only to discover that this was the name of another close by town and that I would need to make another journey to get near to the mountain top temple in question.

Still the town I stopped in over night was lovely, with great food and some lovely surrounding countryside. So much so that I decided to stop and relax there for a night. Well rested I head off the next day for a military town right ext to the temple. I took what I felt was a rather overpriced moto up to the temple itself and was soon glad I had made the effort. The temple ruins were large, beautiful, peaceful and relatively quiet (I was the only white person there). The views over the nearby plains were also absolutely stunning. After exploring decaying stone hallways, overgrown wats and pocket marked causeways I found to my delight that large areas of the temple were still being actively used as places of worship, complete with buddhist monks and colourfully wrapped statues.

The best was saved for last however as just underneath an overhang which showed off the view to its best extend I found a shrine complete with people meditating inside. After leaving an offering of incense I joined in and let the serene and intensely spiritual atmosphere of the place drift over me.

I left refreshed and ready for the next leg of my journey, Ankor wat.