Archives for posts with tag: Mannequins

Bzzt...etc, 2015– Bzzt…mumble…mumble…photograph…anyway (for Bobby Gillespie), 2015 –


* * *

Hey! Check out Between Scarlett and Guest, a visual conversation with Ashley Lily Scarlett.

* * *

Two People In A Room, 2015– Two People In A Room, 2015 –

* * *

TFIPM is taking a short break – it’s time to reassess the old routine. Plus, there’s a big pile of books in the corner of the room that won’t read itself. And there are four collaborations, (including Between Scarlett and Guest, a visual conversation with Ashley Lily Scarlett), to work on, so I’m busy as well. Excuses, excuses…

* * *

Shop Front, London, 2015– Shop Front (formerly Freuds), 4th February 2015 –

* * *

 Ashley Lily Scarlett and I have started a new blog together. It’s a conversation in pictures and it’s called Between Scarlett and Guest.

* * *

Empty Space (II), 2012

Empty Space (III), 2012

Empty Space (IV), 2012

These were taken in Central London and Beckenham, UK.

Empty Space: A Haunting  is a novel by M. John Harrison. It was published in 2012. I’ve already posted about the anticipation of this book here.

I’ve finally started reading it. It’s slow going, not because of the book, which is engrossing and brilliant, but because of other stuff, mundane things, sticky situations. I’m on Chapter Eight, and gripped.

So far, the book is divided between three narrative strands – one set on Earth in the near-future, and two set in the city of Saudade, which is light years away. One of these strands is from the point of view of a not entirely above-board shipper and the other from an investigator of irregularities. I couldn’t possibly hope to summarise the book at this stage, so instead here’s the second paragraph from Chapter Three:

Whether you believed these claims or not, one thing was certain: Antoyne was no longer the loser you used to see beached-up in Saudade City, narratising his bad luck, drinking Black Heart Rum, reduced to making small points at the very edge of the game as errand boy for cheap crooks like Vic Serotonin or Pauli DeRaad. He owned his own ship. He had an eye for a transaction. He wasn’t even fat anymore.

The photographs are not representative of the text in any way except that they kind of felt right – maybe something of the atmosphere…anyway, there will be more (and a fuller review of the book when I’ve finished it).

In our house, this book can be found: bedroom in a pile of stuff on the chest of drawers.

M John Harrison has his own blog here.

* * *

Thank as always,  John and Deanne and Terry for title shenanigans and Richard at CK Ponderings for being a super-cool collaborator.