After a little under five years, the honeysuckle I planted on my city balcony is in flower - the sweet smell of consistent watering.
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After a little under five years, the honeysuckle I planted on my city balcony is in flower - the sweet smell of consistent watering.
Driving in the Troodos mountains, Cyprus, with GGF, breathing clean, pine-scented air, soaked in mediterranean sun, I saw tree-lined valleys falling away before us into a heat-haze distance, and instantly asked that we stop and take in the view. I felt the unmistakable urge to listen to what this place might have to say. I took a few pictures, and then I started to make a video.
I didn’t prepare this little sermon on the mount - it was spontaneous. Speaking mirthfully of the truth, I was taken by surprise when the truth was actually revealed to me.
As a result of making this video, and being so simply reminded about what matters, since returning from Cyprus at the end of April I have completely and systematically revised my work methods and returned to some long-held but temporarily obscured aims. I’m still not 100% certain of how it happened, but I am bloody glad that it did. It won’t show for a few months yet, but the pieces are now in place, and I am happy to post this video to sort of explain why I have changed, if not quite how.
Wish me luck, I might just need it.
Driving in the Troodos mountains, Cyprus, with GGF, breathing clean, pine-scented air, soaked in mediterranean sun, I saw tree-lined valleys falling away before us into a heat-haze distance, and instantly asked that we stop and take in the view. I felt the unmistakable urge to listen to what this place might have to say. I took a few pictures, and then I started to make a video.
I didn’t prepare this little sermon on the mount - it was spontaneous. Speaking mirthfully of the truth, I was taken by surprise when the truth was actually revealed to me.
As a result of making this video, and being so simply reminded about what matters, since returning from Cyprus at the end of April I have completely and systematically revised my work methods and returned to some long-held but temporarily obscured aims. I’m still not 100% certain of how it happened, but I am bloody glad that it did. It won’t show for a few months yet, but the pieces are now in place, and I am happy to post this video to sort of explain why I have changed, if not quite how.
Wish me luck, I might just need it.
A muse in front of the Paris temple of modern art, the Centre Pompidou, on being an artist, or not.
To all my good friends at MediaCamp Bucks - my apology for absence.
Bunhill Row, London, an old Quaker burial ground, dating back to the sixteenth century is the resting place of great author and artist William Blake, and Daniel Defoe, creator of the seminal castaway, Robinson Crusoe.
I dropped in to pay some respects to these great architects, on my way back from celebrating Bangladeshi New Year.
In this episode, I question the whole deal - to move, or not to move? and visit Brighton to make up my mind.
Shit happens. Shit hits the fan. Shit gets stuck to your shoe and makes a bad smell. It’s how you deal with it that counts. Do you clean your shoe or blame the pavement? Do you shoot the dog or insist the owner gets training?
Islington Farmers Market happens every Sunday behind the town hall. Good quality fruit and veg make all the difference to surviving the city.
The Holloway Road, the A1, red river of metal that cuts through Islington like a molten tributary, runs from Highbury Corner up to Archway, whence it continues to Edinburgh, Scotland. After 24 years, I have mixed feelings about this place, as this episode of Flat 34 explains.
I discuss the roots of my caring for the domestic environment, and then engage with the real world by going underground, traveling to work on London’s tube.
London in the rain: an exploration of the holes of Islington. Contains less trees than it did when I made it.
Getting down and dirty means keeping it clean and tidy… episode 4 of the Flat34.com podcast.
Deek Central, Benchcam and more from the Art Lavatory.
Friendship makes personal demands upon us, even as it generously donates its rewards… episode two of the Flat 34 video podcast. Contains coffee.
Episode 1 of my new video podcast, in which I begin the long goodbye to my home for the last 24 years.
I’ll be moving out of London in less than a month, all being well, and I’m starting to muse about being here, leaving here, and how to mark the passing of this major phase in my life and the beginning of a new one.
I went to Boston, USA, to visit my friend Sonia, and to attend PodCamp Boston. It was an entirely different kind of new media affair from PodCamps EU, UK or Ireland. Three days long, very populated, highly sponsored, over-organised, situated in a huge convention centre in the old dockland area of South Boston in a remote, cavernous modern building devoid of any decent nutrition, much of the presentation was well-meaning and educational, but the event was nonetheless mostly about people self-consciously attempting to produce meaningful content which will vie with the Big Boys and wondering when that is actually going to happen. (Stage whisper: not any time soon…) The highlight was Lolsaurs, in which the lunatics took over the asylum.
I kept a pretty low profile, which suited me this time, and was pleased just to hang out, catch up with old friends, and make new friends.
This is a 54 minute camera phone movie, shot on my (now elderly) Sony Ericsson k800i, best served with a squeeze of lemon.
what a lot of fun
writing haiku ev’ry day
while i blog elsewhere
I went to Kilkenny, Ireland at the end of September, hung out with a bunch of friends and generous new media people, and made this 30 minute movie about the experience.

Check out the photos here.
At this time of year the angle of the sun changes and Islington’s long Victorian streets look quite astonishing.
I made this video in Sheringham Road, N7.

“Why, Sir, you find no man, at all intellectual, who is willing to leave London. No, Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford,” quoted Boswell of Samuel Johnson. But he didn’t live in Islington, 2007, with the lifestyle becoming ever more precarious.
This weekend, a long muse on the mixed feelings I have about where I live, the London Borough of Islington, an idyllic urban bubble in the middle of the insane British capital.

We haven’t seen such dark, water-bearing summer skies as this for a long time. It’s difficult to concentrate - we’re not used to this monsoon weather, at this latitude.
A mysterious pregnancy. May contain broadcasters.
I was cycling back from the party last night, and I had not one but three song ideas one after the other. Of course, I recorded them all on my phone. And then, as I came past Mount Pleasant sorting office, where brave postal workers have recently been striking for a living wage, I found myself spontaneously articulating a poem about girls, boys and glitter. Quite why it arrived in a Scottish accent beats me - perhaps it’s a sign of long-held regard for the great William McGonagall.

Camera phone walk through the Big Summer Party held by Chinwag. At the same time, we’re throwing the virtual version in Second Life.
The Count of crookula 23:56
i had at least five comments saying it was the best sound quality they had ever heard
In the first day of the smoking ban in England, Norwegian bass player, nicotine, sex and coffee addict Sjur Opsal discusses his addictions in the pub, smoking his last cigarette.
Contains explicit sexual references and scenes of drug usage: not suitable for the innocent.
You can’t point a camera anywhere these days without people noticing - they are too switched on, especially kids. Whether that’s because their protective elders have terrified them into paedophile paranoia, or whether it’s just because they are naturally smart and observant, I cannot tell.
Still, there I was a few days ago, framing some sun-and-shadow which was looking particularly nice from my study window, and on cue, a couple of bikes came into view, propelled by the legs of children. I kept the camera still; I was four floors up and silent; but as the second child passes through the frame, notice how she waves for the camera. I didn’t notice her noticing me, but then, I was busy with the camera.
I’m now wondering whether either her parents, the police or an invoice is going to show up.
Glasgow, 2007. Inflatable statues bend and sway in the May sunlight in George Square, amid tents celebrating Swedish football. I stared at them; their movements seemed bizarre, as if retching, drunk, the elbow crease of escaping air resembling a stomach convulsing, heaving. Conversely, the arms waved as if in perpetual supplication, in a slavish dance of worship. Such is football.
I’m in this short film for Google’s Zeitgeist event which is going to be held this weekend in London. You can spot me easily enough - I’m the one not talking about new media democracy.
Blinking heck! I thought. There’s a young girl handing out food bars to people on the corner of High Holborn, London. She was with a young man who had a logo emblazoned plastic box on wheels and who like her was passing out dozens of freebie muesli bars.
Or were they muesli bars? Was I witnessing an attack? Was the girl even human?
I thought I’d better ask her.
“You just need a uniform,” she said, “and a trolley like this one.”
I found this rather wonderful community-made video on FiveNews website.
Four youngsters report from an eco-friendly city farm.
Jamie Craig, 13, Bethany Scott, 11, Maryam Akerbousse, 6, and Sophia Anderson, 9, from the organisation Children’s Express, took a trip to Freightliners Farm in north London.
They find out what sort of things it does to stay environmentally-friendly.
They also got the chance to meet some of the animals and interview manager Mary Whiting.
We were walking in the local city farm, Freightliners, and we could hear the Arsenal Stadium roar as Fabregas delighted the faithful.

I went to a studio in Islington, north London, and recorded a green-screen interview session for Brand Fuel a local company who are making a series of short films for the upcoming Google Zeitgeist event in May.
Warning: this is relatively boring. It’s the unedited slightly edited recording of your local hero podcaster attending a film and photo shoot. Please look away now. Actually I find myself cringeing on playback at my slight but obvious nerves going into this unusual situation, but it went fine, I enjoyed it. We were all professionals.
There are three remarkable things about this event, however.
1. I made the podcast from the studio, which was fun.
2. I got paid £20 just for being Deek Deekster
3. I met Seb Robertson.
Seb introduced himself as the “YouTube Guy” and then showed me his video craziness. Kind of like a less-nasty Jackass with Mighty Boosh costumes. Watch Seb’s antics here. I did an interview with him, I’ll get around to uploading that video eventually.
Found alien footprints in my kitchen, and followed the trail to their craft.
I finally got a look at the bird, decided out of pity to help it out, and so we had a jam.
This spontaneous outpouring came as I realised very strongly that all the wealth that surrounds us in the developed world makes us believe in the illusion of permanence…
Sometimes even the glorious annual upsurge of nature can be tedious and irritating. You decide…
Barnsbury bird sings loudly.
“It’s a combination of spring bird song and waste disposal truck that will always remind me of London.”
I was on the tube yesterday returning from Chiswick, and got stuck at Victoria. “There is a problem at Green Park,” announced the public address system. Certainly there was, I could smell the smoke! So I exited and walked past Buckingham Palace, and into Green Park where the shadows were long and the commuters bundled past royal banks of daffodils. It felt surreal.
When I got back home, I found that Unio and Petitio, my favourite fictional band had uploaded two new tracks, so I made myself a frothy cocoa, and made the lovely magic musicians a nice cheap pop video from my touristic camera observations, before bed.
Gunnersbury Station, West London.
There was an announcement over the public address system: the alarm in the large building nearby was to tested - do not be alarmed.
The alarm was tested. We were not alarmed.
Phew!
You know how it is. You feel couped up, so you go out and get drenched…
Yesterday morning, on the occasion of my 45th birthday, I went and filmed in my local park. I ended up recording a valediction for this green space.
Got the Thameslink train back from Brighton. I love the view as the raised railway line runs from London Bridge along the South Bank and over Blackfriars Bridge. My cameraphone was facing upriver.

Tired after a hectic week, visited Hampstead Heath to refresh myself, and recorded this in the old marble bathhouse adjacent to Kenwood House.
Now we all know that the west was won because all the buffalo were slaughtered, and not because of the miraculous invention of wagons whose wheels rolled backwards whilst moving forwards, don’t we?
These are church railings in the rain, but the effect at 10 frames a second in this 3GP video is the same. It’s a weird feeling, going in two directions at once, one we can all relate to, I’m sure.
Made this mobile movie from the train returning to London from Oslo. You can see the suburbs of Oslo as the train travels north.