Poor, Pooh Bear.

Some murderous bastard had strung Pooh Bear up on some barbed wire. For what crime, I do not know. Pilfering honey, no doubt.

Bodmin Moor, February 2010.

An antique future.

Steve and Kirsty came to stay. Kirsty brought film with her.
Amid the desolation, I took this.

Cornwall, April 2010.

Tortured.

All the new black and white images are available as fine art prints.

Contact me for details.

We can get on with our lives now.

Who said it couldn't be done?

After years of weeping into my cornflakes at the thought of running out of film, those crazy chaps at Impossible have saved me. Show them some love, will you.

I've got a few more test shots of the new film, but you'll have to wait for them...

Happy to answer any questions about this beautiful film.

Future echo.

Hoax or reality?

I don't know what I thought as this strangely elegant, yet ultimately ugly camera jumped off the page. I hate the wood (or wood effect) but like the departure of Dubbya: it gives you hope. It has the classic lines of Polaroid, but we missed 20 good years of evolution - being served up only black plastic horrors and Spice Cams - so it's a hard vision to nail.

The twisting track that's defined Polaroid, or more broadly instant photography, has been a bizarre one in recent times. The news is guarded, the shadows lengthen. Will it, won't it? It's beginning to feel like a form of torturous pleasure. Maybe the horizon really is filled only with the limp blandness of digital, but that would be too horrible to imagine.

The church of Polaroid is a committed one; more vehemently protected and argued over than any other. And all that comes from entirely within her own ranks.

We have but one choice as I see it. Support anyone and everyone who is digging deep in their pockets to save the artform we love. If you don't like what they're doing, do something else.

I found this image here.

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