...the poet looks, not bold as brass
but hard, swift, slowing his walk
a little, accursed recorder, his feelings
as confused as the November leaves...
From 'At Central Station', Edwin Morgan, 1978
That part of Edwin Morgan's poem, 'At Central Station', has always stuck in my mind.
I think it's the part of me that identifies with looking, searching, and taking everything in - the surroundings, the people, the ambience, the rush...committing it to memory, film or sketch.
Maybe it's because I grew up in a rural area, that sometimes I can be overpowered with the 'busyness' of the city. The sights, the sounds, the speed.. To be honest it's probably one of the reasons I like to be behind the lens, whether that be with the film camera, or the dslr - it's that last little shield between me and the 'real'. Holding it outward, protecting myself from being sucked in.
I've been documenting aspects of Scottish life for a few years now, usually marches and protests - yep, i know - me that doesn't like crowds.
I'm now putting up some photographic galleries as I give the website a little facelift. The first one is a few stills from the Gay Pride March in Glasgow in 2016, when the skies opened and the rain poured down.
Have a peek here - Photography.
Whit's he up tae noo?
The blog posts of David Brodie, a Scottish artist based near Glasgow.