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"Edinburgher, UK" ?Posted by devon on Monday, April 18, 2005
OH MY GOD I HAD NO IDEA THAT WAS ON THERE FOR SO LONG.
I severely apologise for the large turd below that was my post.
It is outdated,
and must have been written during one of my unfortunate crack binges last semester.
Basically, I'm well settled into the UK. A complete and utter disrespect for discipline has me procrastinating for my end of term exams. I'll get nice and waxed up to allow me to squeeze through this year. I've been shooting rolls and rolls of film every week, which is what I should be doing. I'm spending the next two weeks in the darkroom though developing films and not exposing any. After exams are finished, I've got a number of committments with people in the studio, so I'll be shooting a lot.
It comes and it goes....
I became a member of the Edinburgh Photographic Society, which occupies a rectangular section of stone georgian facade on Great King Street, in "New Town". Its lovely inide, they've got a computer room and darkrooms in the basement, meeting room on the ground floor, and offices and a studio on the top floor.
The thing I love most about it, is that when I'm there I get to keep company with the most interesting group of people. Essentially, the most active members of the society seem to be mid 50's, male and retired. Which means at any of the meetings, which sadly I don't usually attend, I end up chatting with one of these gentlemen about photography or whatever. They all love photography so much, and are constantly bringing photo's in to brag, or complimenting eachother on their talents. Its comforting to talk to them and know that photography can be something that stays with you untill old age, like an instrument, or reading.
I guess, in a nutshell, that is the photographic society.
Were just searching out a flat. Its very strange that I will be living for the next few years in Marchmont, blocks away from the flat where my father was born. I walk by the door and it kind of creeps me out. There is something very fishy about the passage of time.
I havn't used the word fishy in an age, and just now realise what a stupid adjective that is.
I have friends. One is named Ryan, another James. There is also Sarah, Greg, Lindsay and others.
If at any point in the future, I decide to update this site semi-frequently, you may hear names used to describe people, I'll try not to make it confusing.
I've recently re-discovered not liking people. Strange concept.
I was so happy to be somewhere normal.
That's worn off.
I still have absolutely no idea what I was thinking going on my trip. It makes less and less sense to me as time passes. Really silly idea.
But, possibly worse, is that I'm forcing myself to take a boat back to panama instead of flying home.
I'm definitely planning on finishing the damned thing. I'm trying not to think about it too much, just like while I was on my trip. It was more about what I was doing tommorow, than what I was doing the day after that.
I'm trying to organize a cargo ship that will take me more or less directly from a european port, to Colon, on the Carribbean side of the Panama Canal. If I arrived In colon, it would only be a 4 hour bus-ride back to Panama City, then another 25 minutes to the Tucomen Airport, where I would officially have travelled every single 365 degrees of the worlds longitude, overland.
I shouldn't jinx it.
I've got a few numbers from very intense session of phonecall tennis that went on for hours with a number of different companies offices. I honestly spent 3 hours talking to random people, who would pass me on to one person, and then another, and then another, who would tell me that in fact the right people to call were this or that. Call them, yadda yadda, repeats, then finally I end up with numbers for the head offices of several shipping companies based in continental europe.
I called it a day at that, and will wait untill the planets align to make those phonecalls.
If I do get back, I'm goign to spend some time after that in Vancouver, Canada. Which is my home. I havn't been home a long time. (for me)
There really are no words for how I'm feeling about that.
And another, short, petulant story for those people living in the UK.
I woke up at nine thirty a couple sundays ago, with no intention at all of going to glastonbury(The best music festival in Europe) ( because of the boat situation) and for a laugh logged on to the website, entered my details, and on my first attempt, secured myself with two tickets.
I don't know how or why these kinds of things happen to me, but I'm not happy about it.
I start to worry that there is something I have nothing to do with giving me things, and it makes me feel fairly guilty. I try my best to do good things, but seriously, the luck would be better bestowed elsewhere. I'm really not that great a person. Fairly shit, in the great scheme of things, yet I have unusually good fortune.
And of course, once it dissapears I'll be fucked like a cripple with no crutch.
Right,
in cunc:
photography going well
will probably pass my exams
got glasto tickets
sailing to central america in the summer
then going home
so,
TTFN
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