
A Grower not a show-er.
It's the four people on the right that do it for me.

At the now tender age of 31, here I upload some images that do not represent existentialist angst in any shape or form. Or maybe perhaps. Read behind the lines what you will.
Mount Ararat dominates the skyline, now contensouly in Turkish hands. When I returned Home I remebered Marco Polo mentioning Armenia, It's one of the first nations he mentions. Back then Mount Ararat according to Polo was in the very centre of Armenian lands. Sadly modern Armenia is now a fraction of the size it once was. In the skyline you can see behind the workers just how massive the mountain truly is.
For the people to labour under the shadow of there once spiritual home and symbol of there people, now behind a closed border of a foreign land, it is easy to see why it is such a sore talking point.
Yerevan.


On the end of an era
"I think records were just a little bubble through time and those who made a living from them for a while were lucky. There is no reason why anyone should have made so much money from selling records except that everything was right for this period of time. I always knew it would run out sooner or later. It couldn't last, and now it's running out. I don't particularly care that it is and like the way things are going. The record age was just a blip. It was a bit like if you had a source of whale blubber in the 1840s and it could be used as fuel. Before gas came along, if you traded in whale blubber, you were the richest man on Earth. Then gas came along and you'd be stuck with your whale blubber. Sorry mate – history's moving along. Recorded music equals whale blubber. Eventually, something else will replace it."
At the end of last September I got to spend a few days in Vienna. Wonderful city, clean, safe (except for transsexual prostitutes near westbanof), reliable transport, plenty to see although I never saw any museums, before I left I think I squeezed one in.
With any neg scanners that I seem to touch, lately end up just plain not working, I got some 5x7 prints made, and did a flat bed scan of the images.
This reminds me of the riddle of the Sphinx, in the story of Oedipus, how we start our lives on four legs, then two, and finally three.
At the Museum Quater.
Everywhere you go in that city is parks, I mean you look on a map and every district has it's own beautifully preserved park. 

I was so lucky when I arrived there was an unseasonal Indian summer. I left Ireland and the pissing rain and cold, to lovely sunny temperate days. I couldn't believe that as soon as I landed, off went the wool sweater to walking around in a t-shirt. 
The hostel I stayed in had a bar in the lower basement done up like a torture chamber, it was only when I got home did I actually see the movie "Hostel". Can't understand why they set the movie there, it's one of the safest country's I've ever traveled through. It would be more realistic if it was set in Transnistria.


This is one of those images that I'll have to print big, at least 20" in width, the woman coming up the stairway has a similar expression to the posters at the end of the cement pillar.
I was in the church and the nun was fast asleep, luckily the pffft of the rangefinder did not wake her. This is one of those very rare times where I photograph someone who is homeless.
It's a quite city in general, you pretty much can see it in a day or two. Although I will say it has some of the most stunning looking women I've ever seen in my life. That statement by the way has nothing to do with the above image.
