From Hell and Photography


It must once again be about two a.m. My desk is lit by a small lamp, strewn with sheets of paper, maps, the usual books and folders. The papers contain handwritten snippets of an essay mixed with idea’s for stories and experiments in the art of word play.
Thrashed by tiredness; the latter half of my evening was spent asleep and so, here I am, 2 a.m. I’m wide awake and quite a lot more so than the usual. I suppose my excessive drinking last weekend didn’t help the week commence in as spring-like state as possible, its been a very good week, with its excellent conversation and lots to do. Exciting indeed and I feel rather good.
I’ve been enjoying the art of photography courtesy of Jenni ( and it has had me wanting to take pictures of my own; random household faff and oddities, yet I know its not where my talents lay, just like my father who fumbled up, chopping off heads while photographically failing Princess Anne once upon a time.
Despite this I’m remaining artistic, having another one of my excessive writing phases again, usually lasting a week or so, having me scribble until all hours experimenting with techniques, stories and genre’s. Surely the practice shall pay off and I’ll acquire at least eventual day he says quite wishfully thinking.
My desk, oh my beloved, sturdy, reliable desk, he wears a computer as is often the modern case, naturally and currently i’m using it to peruse the visual and aural feast that is quite simply “From Hell”. Another of my “Depp” films based on the allusive murders of “jack the ripper”. Its evocation of atmosphere is outstanding, Gothic horror at its modern best and quite definitely one of my most fondest.
It bodes well with the current night, a time I find most relaxing, the silence resonates about the room, my thoughts are clear. The usual piss-poor focus is almost too good, I write better at night and so it is; I’ll leave you all now to perfect my dexterity.


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