Polaroid Week Day 1

Roid Week is coming...

If you like Polaroids and you use Flickr, then you probably already know about Roid Week.

It's the most gloriously indulgent orgy of all things instant and it will probably drag me out of my entirely unplanned semi Flickr retirement hiatus thing. Some of my old Roid Week entries are in this Flickr set, but cos i'm shit at tagging I don't think i've found them all...

The feeding frenzy begins on the 11th and it's easy to get lost in the melee, but if you can keep up, or even just drop in, it's a chance to see just how beautiful this form of photography can be. Polaroid is certainly not dead, and with the continual evolution of The Impossible Project our early blind hope is being replaced with a kind of blissful assuredness over the future of our favourite medium.

It's curated by Cate and Gardengal. So give them some thanks.

Get the KooK outta here...

Toddle off and visit the beautiful blog of Dan Crockett to buy the UK's best, and maybe only, surf newspaper. It's filled with goodness and it's printed on bright pink paper.

What more could you want?

Good times...

I can be known for being quite a committed misanthrope, but even I admit there's really nothing quite like making merry with a thousand others in the streets. Despite the beer I managed to take some photos, so here are some of the shots I found in my bag after the meander home.

I think I gave most of the Polaroids away on the day, but that's what it's best for - it feels terribly cruel to take a photo of someone, show them, then pocket it and walk off... And it's such a joyous antidote to the soul sucking of a million digital cameras.

Ps, I've given away a few more Polas today and already feel that default misanthropy fading.

Pps, We - or maybe I really mean I - should do this kind of thing more often.

A good old fashioned piss up on the street.

I went to a street party yesterday. You know... one of those things we used to do in the old days when we didn't play twitter and facebook. I made some new friends and got drunk with some old ones. Perfect. I'll get round to scanning these at some point, I guess, but in the meantime here's a glimpse of the fun we had in the sun.

The way Mays were.

We've been drowning this May. But they haven't always been that way...

White Goddess...

"The Night Mare is...the cruellest - ...her nests...are built of carefully chosen twigs, lined with white horse hair and the plumage of prophetic birds and littered with the jaw bones and entrails of poets..." Graves.

(words sent to me by my good pal automatik)