Ilford XP2, 27 shot-exposure in B&W film. £8.99 from Boots. ‘You’re probably the only person I know who would still buy something like that.’ says my work colleague as we spend our lunch wandering around the Kew Retail Park. ‘Maybe. But there is something cool about blindly shooting a moment, forgetting about it, and then being surprised when it reappears on your USB from Snappy Snaps.’ I reply. ‘Plus, I like the irony of a disposable camera. You chuck the device away, but you keep the contents forever.’
A potential new series on this blog (I’m making no promises), I’ve decided to capture and review each month via film form. Spontaneous, fleeting and random, I wanted to capture life’s ‘in-between’ moments. By lens and byline, this series aims to recall a present-day time through past-time reflection. Blurry, grainy and a little arbitrary, this is life on film.
13 · 01 · 19
Jessie and Rob (ex-flatmates), post Lola’s Bakery. This is one day before they do the big move back home to New Zealand. I eat my sadness away with lots of Red Velvet cake.
20 · 01 · 19
This particular day is exceptional. Brunch in Lantana (avocado, always), vintage markets in Brick Lane, a new helix piercing and purchases fresh off the press in Artwords Bookshop. I write poetry in a soft, plush velvet armchair in the Ace Hotel until dusk and then ride the Northern Line home.
22 · 01 · 19
Tuesday’s forecast: snow showers. Well I simply don’t believe it. Until suddenly, one light, minuscule flake falls into my palm. Then another. Soon the road is covered in a blanket of snow.
22 · 01 · 19
‘Grab your boots!’ I yell up the stairs to my roommate Sam. She’s getting ready for a date but I don’t care. I make her stand outside and watch me play in the snow for a solid six minutes.
26 · 01 · 19
It’s Australia Day so my best friend Brittany takes the coach from Oxford to London and we go to a goon sack party down on Finchley Rd. We end up leaving early to go home, followed suit by a Deliveroo order for Wagamama’s in bed.
11 · 02 · 19
Grey, damp, Monday. The morning sky becomes backdrop to the winter treetops. It reminds me of an X-ray venogram. A little eerie and a little melancholy, but I kind of like it.
17 · 02 · 19
Santander rental bikes, £2 for the half-hour. From Fulham to Hyde Park, I don’t believe Grace and Amy broke a sweat once. Meanwhile I got honked twice, smashed into one pole, nearly ran over a pedestrian and had heart palpitations the entire time. Sore groin aside, it was a brilliant time. I’d do it all over again tomorrow.
17 · 02 · 19
Done on a whim, we became ladies of leisure, basking in the glory of a balmy 16°C weekend in London. We took our pedal fleet to the Serpentine and floated alongside the swans.
17 · 02 · 19
At this point, Amy was playing Row Row Row Your Boat nursery rhyme on Spotify and our pedal boat started an unbearable squeaky idiosyncrasy. We were, by far, the loudest boat and people on the lake.
25 · 02 · 19
You can’t tell, but outside the sky is creating sunset silhouettes; it’s my favourite time of day. It’s rush hour on the tubes and I’m on my way to a SpareRoom flat viewing. The West’s neighbourhoods are blurring outside as the motions of the train crosses over into the next zone. Like a signifier to my brain, I know it’s time to move on.
03 · 03 · 19
Alex on the pavements of Hampstead. We meet at 1pm for creamed scones at the Burgh House and finish at 7pm after a pub roast at The King William IV.
10 · 03 · 19
A tribute to a London suburb, the first one I knew. It’s been ten incredible months of shit wifi, late co-op runs, cuddly cats, a household of six foreigners and overground delays. You never forget your first.