Texture#8

In this part of the world war is not something that is merely written about in text books, studied in history or something that is taking place far from home without threat of it reaching your own borders.War is written in the streets and on the walls, penned with bullets from yesteryear.

Conflict is in the very fabric of this place, with most countries in the region having experienced some kind of war within the last 50 years, if not with each other then civil. This is not to mention the fact that the Syrian civil war still rages on. 

Car bombs are a common method of attack, usually targeting politicians. 

I recently stayed 3 days at a respiratory hospital for the Bedouin people, interviewing the workers there and some of the patients. Annoyingly I actually forgot to take my camera with me for the trip but it was a stunning savanna in the middle of the desert. While I did not experience it myself I was told that just a few days previous the bombs falling over the border in Syria could be heard from the ward.

Note the coffins graffitied on the floor 

Numerous military personal punctuate the streets in each of the nations that I have visited here in the Near East. While these countries generally feel safe from day to day the governments would rather not take the risk. They know how quickly a situation can change from tension to conflict and so would rather keep a tight reign on the situation.

Thousands of crusaders crosses line the walls

Not only is war a thing of the near past but also the ancient past and the scars still remain; etched into the walls but also into the psyche of the people groups that were targeted.

Abandoned military bunker 

While some military installations serve as a reminder that certain wars have ended there are plenty of signs to remind you that more is expected to come...

I think it speaks for itself...

Title font used: 'weekend warrior'

Texture#6 Poverty

If there is a sight that instantly conjures the thought 'poverty' in my mind it is this sight. Corrugated iron sheets bent round each other, wrapping their dented and busted 2mm thick hands around a single room, squeezing the life out. They are painted happy colours but the corners peel back where rust sets in, decay eats at the edges of the flimsy walls, dispelling the skin deep veneer. This house is broken, these walls are failing, sagging with age, succumbing to the will of time.

The hot air inside is thick, close and heavy with the smell of old cooking. Holes in the ceiling let through pin beams of light that reveal the dust that sticks to the single bare incandescent bulb, the only source of light, that leaves corners darkened in a permanent vignette, no one sees what hides in the darkness of those corners.

Each shack stands alone, though there are thousands upon thousands each has its own story, its own prisoners. The walls remember different pains the bulbs highlight different atrocities and the memories change them. They cannot hide it, try as they might, the scars of history bleed through from the background if only we take the time to look closely enough to see.

Peeling paint and crumbling mortar, time pushes through the cracks. That which was once strong becomes enfeebled, brittle and bent. This wall remembers that it was once dust and tries to resist its inevitable return but time heads no one. Neglect hangs heavy on its face, each layer is laid bare and its history is an open book to those who care to see. It's former days of strength are all but forgotten a shadow blown away by the winds of time.

But this house is not left to its own end. It does not belong to itself for it was purchased at a price higher than its own value. One stronger and wiser than it is at work within, he is creating a masterpiece, breaking off the old and dilapidated and replacing it with the new. He has a vision that looks beyond the possible and deeper than the skin.

He cries:

 'O house of Israel, can I not do with you as this potter has done? declares the Lord. Behold, like the clay in the potter's hand, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel.'

the response:

"Let me hear joy and gladness;

let the bones that you have broken rejoice."

Title font: 'Sketch Gothic'

Texture#5 Pecan Tree

I have only just (about 3 or 4 hours ago) got back home from my 2 week wedding holiday to Texas to see my brother Josh tie the knot. I am currently swamped in a mountain of pictures, narrowing them down is not easy but I have whittled it to 500 which, given the starting figure, is quite drastic. Anyway because I just have the urge to publish something rather than get completely consumed in post production work flow I ran these through lightroom in about 30 seconds flat cause the originals were already sweet!

O.K so don't want to make this too much of a quick fire post so I will explain a little. The Littlestars who's daughter just married my Brother own a river house on the Guadeloupe river where they kindly allowed us to stay for part of our trip to there fair land.
 The front garden, though that is an inaccurate word it will have to suffice - perhaps front yard would be more fitting. Anyway the land is peppered by pecan trees, I'm not entirely sure how well it is conveyed in these pictures but their bark is strong stiff and sharp as I found out to my detriment when attempting to climb this one in bare foot - It's like walking on slate when all the sharp bits are pointing up. nice.
anyway the instant I saw them in day light ( we first arrived at night) I knew I would do a texture post on them as they're are incredible trees!
Interesting fact of the post: pecan trees ( or at least these ones) out grown themselves, their branches grow too long and heavy to support themselves leading to the inevitable collapse of their branches and so they are fairly high maintenance trees.

Texture#4 Cathederal

I recently had the pleasure of visiting Bristol City Cathedral while in its proper use - I was not allowed to take photos during the service so I had to reserve myself until afterwards meaning I was not taking pictures of the main hall though the architecture of the building is phenomenal throughout.

Cathedrals are amazing buildings. The materials and techniques used to build them equate to nothing built by today's standards. The intricacy of the carvings, the attention to detail is outlandish in a construction so large and so numerous. This is another way in which age and texture correlate; things are not built like they used to be. It's all pre-fab and cost effective. Take a picture of any interior built within the last 50 years - bland by comparison to the way things used to be done with such care and dedication to each and every detail.

Texture#3 Bricks & Stones

I spent last weekend in a converted barn in Bideford, a lovely place in North Devon. It was among other things old and I am finding that age and texture often correlate or should I say decay and texture? That aside it was a beautiful place to capture, rich with texture.

Texture#2 - Skin

The most familiar texture to everyone who has ever lived in my estimation based on the fact that it covers us from head to toe 24/7/365 until we die and even then some, for a little while.
We assume it is smooth until we take another, closer look -  and see the detail and intricacy of the undulating folds, closer to ripples on the surface, like a million sand dunes all packed into a tiny little desert in the palm of your hand. On your finger tips a hundred miniature frozen waves breaking on the shore where skin meets nail.

Back hand - pores, hair, dimples, crinkles and veins.

It's beauty aside skin and specifically the portion wrapped around your fingers is exquisite. Entirely unique from person to person and distinct enough to be able to distinguish between even 'identical' twins.
I find it staggering the level of detail - of design that is observable and never more than an arms reach away.

'In the absence of proof, the thumb print alone is enough to convince me of Gods existence'
-Isaac Newton (I think?)

The challenge:
Take some time, sit back, closely examine your fingerprints and think.

Texture

I have decided to start a little series on texture. This is something I have been wanting to do for quite a while and this was the straw on the proverbial camels back. So texture study #1:

Battle Torn

Living in a city I often think it would be great to go and get some hardcore grunge urban shots in the centre or  in the local industrial estate but actually being in a city urban is everywhere, this lamp post is literally a stones throw from my house and has clearly been around for quite some time - I think it has had more than it's fair share of storms, bumps and knocks.

Sealed Through Time

I think the above was at one point a service hatch of sorts for the lamp post, it has clearly long since ceased to function in that role. The rust around the edge has made it almost indistinguishable where the door finishes and the lamp post starts. This is a door forgotten by man and sealed by time.

Break Free & Breathe

This is my favourite texture on the post, a familiar texture but in an unfamiliar environment. when I see this I think 'dry mud'. It feels like the post is trying to shed its skin of paint that has sealed it for so long, like a snake shedding its skin.

Finally I cannot not comment on the colour - while it is shape that gives texture it is all the more accentuated by the contrasting colours and the two directly relate. I can see 3 layers and 3 colours in this, the first is the outer coat of blue paint then just under that a white coat- perhaps the original colour of the lamp post before it was painted blue? Then finally the rich deep browns and oranges of the rusted layer beneath. Now that I look closer again there is also some deep pink/Magenta, maybe from the rust bleeding through into the paint or maybe this lamp post was even red at some point, I do not know but I like that fact.

My challenge to you:
When you see the mundane - look again, closer and think again.

Let me know your thoughts on the above textures in the comments   v