[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 20 February 2022].
untitled #79
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 13 February 2022].
mother and child
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 6 February 2022].
the only way is up
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 30 January 2022].
the angel weeps
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 23 January 2022].
thank you for the music
Mid-morning on Monday, David messaged me. The notification flashing up on my phone's lock screen stopped me in my tracks.
Though I was working, I immediately switched to my own computer to visit Anthony Horan's Facebook profile. To try to fathom the message David had sent me.
Before I got to his profile, I hadn't even considered David's question was logical.
My eyes settled on a truncated comment from Chris, Anthony's brother. It opened in a way I immediately knew wouldn't end in any way I had wanted to imagine.
I felt like I couldn't breathe. I immediately started crying and didn't stop for a good half hour. Through tears, I emailed my manager and a colleague to advise I needed to take a break.
It felt like it took me ten minutes or more to read through the update from Chris properly. My eyes and brain kept stalling on the first few words. When I had finally managed to read it, I stayed to read all the lovely comments from Anthony's other friends. The tears just kept coming.
I met Anthony at Retro within a month of turning 18. Along with friends, I discovered Club 383 seemingly randomly and tried out a new night there on a Thursday. We returned on a Friday night for Retro. And then a Saturday night for Collision. Anthony was one of the DJs for both Retro and Collision.
For almost a month before I turned 18, we turned up early. I was sober, and my friends bought non-alcoholic drinks for me. I was often the first person on the dancefloor.
I was excited simply to dance to songs I loved in a space that wasn't my lounge room. All the time I spent in nightclubs, I preferred being on an empty or half-empty dancefloor. I could dance freely with my eyes closed without worrying about being burned by someone's cigarette and without the distraction of some sleazy guy trying to hit on me.
I would harass Anthony, Andy and Craig through the sliding glass window of the DJ booth with my endless requests. Then I'd run onto the dancefloor excitedly as I heard the opening bars of my favourite songs.
I was like a child at a carnival.
A few months later, after a falling out with one of my closest friends who I regularly went out with, I decided I would venture out on my own.
By that stage, I'd got to know the Club 383 DJs: Anthony, Tony, Andy, and Craig. Well enough that I figured I had a DJ booth to hang out in or near if I didn't want to dance to a song but felt awkward standing at the edge of the dancefloor.
That decision led to me spending sporadic periods hanging out with Anthony in the DJ booth. Flicking through his extensive CD collection and behaving like an irritating younger sister, haranguing him to "Play this next!" or "Ooh! This!" He was endlessly patient and never patronised me. He didn't always play my requests, but he never made me feel stupid for asking for them.
When I worked on my final folio for the second semester of my first year at Photography Studies College, I shot a series of photographs at Club 383.
It included a portrait of Anthony with his decks (though most of what he played was on CD, not vinyl). It was shot in standard nightclub lighting. There was no way to adequately capture him and the turntable together in any meaningful way. So I spent time in the darkroom compositing a portrait of him with the turntable. I don't have a quality electronic version at the moment, but the image above gives you a general idea.
I probably spent two nights a week almost every week from March 1995 to the end of 1998 at Club 383. My time out dancing dropped off in 1999 in the lead-up to leaving the country. But Anthony and I stayed in contact intermittently over that time.
When I returned to Melbourne in April 2002, we spent far too many hours nattering on ICQ, Hotmail Messenger and Yahoo! Messenger. We followed each other on LiveJournal, though Anthony barely posted. And then on the usual social media platforms. We spent the wee hours of countless nights hanging out in his flat, listening to music and drinking cider and/or wine.
On Thursday, 21 August 2003, Anthony, Daniel and I formed the Dick Laurent Remembrance Society. A trivia team that last competed on 13 March 2018, with Dave in place of Daniel, though Dave was a regular member for much of the team's existence. Our team fluctuated from two to six members over the weeks and years.
For the lifetime of the team, Anthony and I were the most consistent members, often competing as a duo when all the other tables had four to six members. For various reasons (none of which were cheating), the two of us enjoyed many fancy and expensive meals at the Mitre Tavern's more prestigious sister restaurant. Prizes for our efforts.
Where mine and Anthony's geography consistently let the team down, Daniel's saved our skins many a time. Daniel joked on one occasion that our geography was so bad that he wondered how we found our way to the pub each week. Of course, we responded it was due to a well-worn trail and the scent of alcohol. All three of us failed, majestically, when it came to the sport round, though.
Anthony and I were massive nerds in some respects. And we both hated the heat. I still remember the two of us - sweltering in our respective homes - semi-regularly refreshing the RMIT real-time weather website for updates on incoming cool changes. Anthony lived in the city, and I lived in the inner northern suburbs. So if he finally experienced the temperature change, I could rush around opening windows and doors to let in the incoming cool breeze about ten minutes later. Anthony introduced me to many helpful online websites during our friendship, but this was one of the most valuable.
As most people will know, Anthony's passion was music. He reviewed it, he produced it. He supported artists both well-known and emerging, and he played hours of music at least two nights a week for much of the time I knew him.
His reviews were never the bitter, backstabbing type that might populate the pages of NME. Celebrating an artist one week then shooting them down the next. His reviews in Beat and InPress were always fair, well-considered and often focussed on female singer/songwriters. There was never anything pandering or fake about the reviews, but they were invariably positive.
He introduced me to so many talented female artists or female-fronted outfits. I put together a modest playlist of those who immediately came to mind on Monday evening. Along with some of the songs he patiently played repeatedly for me, on request. I had to include an ABBA track at the end. He was one of the only people I knew who would champion their music in the late 90s when grunge and indie were in fashion.
Amongst others, he introduced me to Sia, Soko, Emilie Simon, Dot Allison, Bat For Lashes and My Brightest Diamond. And he introduced me to the music and the actual personage of Wendy Rule.
He was an incorrigible flirt but never sleazy. He was gentle (though there was that one time he rugby tackled me!) Sweet, respectful, witty (though sometimes a bit on the 'dad joke' spectrum). Enthusiastic, passionate, genuine and down to earth. I never heard about him falling out with anyone, and he and I never had a cross word between us.
We spent Monday nights together for a season or two, watching the latest episodes of Lost. He donated his old TV - and the wall unit to hold it - to me when he upgraded to a flatscreen. It may not have been the best telly, but it was a definite upgrade from my 15" CRT!
Over recent years, with the difference in timezone and him working more "normal" hours, we couldn't catch up often. Despite us previously both being night owls. And unfortunately, we didn't manage to have another round of trivia when I was last in Melbourne due to his family commitments at the time.
His last message to me was in late August 2021: "Oh, by the way, I've gotta recommend a show on Netflix called 'Brand New Cherry Flavor' - it pushes all the right Lynch/Cronenberg buttons, and Rosa Salazar is awesome in it. Think Hollywood Lynchian noir melded with Clive Barker weirdness. And kittens. Lots of kittens."
Honestly, I had forgotten that. And now, as soon as I can renew my Netflix subscription, that will be what I have to watch next.
He shared that recommendation off the back of me enquiring about his middle name. I had a character in a novel I'd started writing for NaNoWriMo in 2016 that was primarily based on him, but a slight hybrid with two other DJs from Club 383. On Monday, when I found out he'd passed away, I kicked myself that I didn't share that excerpt with him while I could. Obviously, I had no conception of what the next few months would hold.
All I can think as I finish writing this is how much I wish Anthony could have read this. I know we would have had such a laugh about it all. We didn't spend nearly enough time talking about all the hijinks we got up to back in the day. About all the moments we shared.
I know he knew how much I valued his friendship. That, whether we talked every day or every 365th day, our friendship was still strong. But we always write these things after someone we love is gone, and that's so stupid. They should be able to read these things and share them with us.
At least I know I wrote posts about Anthony that he read at the time, some of which fed into this post. But I wish I'd shared that excerpt with him when I mentioned it. It wasn't a starring role - a pivotal character - but it captured the easy friendship we shared. One I will miss so much.
Thank you for the music, Anthony. Somewhere you're filling the dancefloor once more. And there are penguins.
brontë parsonage
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 18 January 2022].
you've made your bed...
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 10 January 2022].
a bed of roses
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 2 January 2022].
untitled #193
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 26 December 2021].
a low ebb
2020 had its challenges, but I’m not going to lie. For me, personally, 2021 was a bitch.
I’m not going to expend more energy expanding upon that topic in this post.
I’ve tried to stop giving oxygen to elements in my life that proved to be unhealthy this year. Possibly for the first time in my whole life, that involved cutting ties with an ex-partner.
While this year has been a hard one for many reasons, there have been definite highlights.
And, especially when I was sick with Covid-19 back in July, I was overwhelmingly reminded of the brilliant global support network I have. I’m still gobsmacked by that. To those of you part of that network, both family and friends (and I’m sure you know who you are), I send you my love, and I’m forever grateful for you.
Before things went a bit more than pear-shaped this year, I managed to complete another 100 Day Project starting on 31 January 2021. I had a proper go at sketching every day. And, while I don’t profess to be a master illustrator, even after those 100 days, I created some not so terrible drawings.
The 100 Day Project for the coming year will start on 13 February 2022. I’ve had a few ideas of what I’d like to do, but we’ll see which one I settle upon.
Through my Patreon, I shared writings from my attempts at NaNoWriMo in 2009 and 2016. These are still rough second drafts and are currently only available to patrons.
I shared curated series from my sepulchre work, mushroom photographs, and travel photography.
I started my series of love letters to london, which I’d hoped to complete in 2021, but I will continue into 2022.
This year I took self-portraits for the first time since mid-2018 and have shared some that continue my interior/exterior series or fall into my new wallflowers series. I already have images from the latter to share in the new year.
I won’t bore you with my plant progress this year but suffice to say, my indoor plants fared better than the garden.
And I wrote actual handwritten letters for the first time in decades, inspired (or guilted?) by my friend Phil.
The things I let fall by the wayside this year were reading (beyond news articles of varying lengths) and language studies. Both I want to get back into in 2022.
In May, I unexpectedly found myself confronted by what is believed to be the oldest tree in London. A beautiful yew, she may be 2,000 years old.
She was more impressive up close than from a distance. I’ll share more close-ups of her beautiful contours in the new year, though I shared one previously.
In May, there was also a pleasant day out in Hertford. Exploring the source of the New River and wandering along the River Lea. Though there was also a bull charging me for photographing him!
In October, Scott and I explored the section of the New River (not new, not a river) between Hornsey and Finsbury Park.
At the end of 2020, I wasn’t overly hopeful for much travel this year. I would have settled for a weekend away somewhere within the UK.
Thanks to one of my longest-suffering friends, Phil, I visited Chichester and Bosham (first image in this post),
Itchenor
arundel cathedral
and Arundel.
untitled #203
And thanks to a cat-sitting gig for Jo and Becky, I was able to visit Minera,
untitled #144
Coedpoeth
and Wrexham.
However, the most unexpected and surprisingly fulfilling element of 2021 for me was becoming a cat-sitter.
Growing up and into my 20s and beyond, I was always a dog person. I couldn’t fathom cats. I would have said honestly at one point that I hated cats. So cat-sitting was not even close to being on my bingo card for 2021.
But really, in retrospect, I think it was more that I didn’t understand cats.
A chance pub quiz with friends led to me becoming a cat-sitter for the first time this year, and it’s something I hope to continue into 2022 and beyond.
There are side bonuses, like exploring new areas of London and beyond and locations for shooting self-portraits. And going “on holiday” but being paid for it.
But I’m not going to lie that the kitteh snuggles are lovely, and winning over an anxious or difficult kitteh brings a particular buzz with it. (Though I would be all good with less claw-to-skin action in demonstrations of affection…)
So, in order of appearance, here are the cool cats I’ve met this year (apologies for the photo quality with some. I hope to get better photos of them in future!)
Shiloh
Susie
Bao
Paczi
Meg
Mog
Sammy
Lily
Poppy
I’m not going to chance my hand predicting what 2022 will hold. But I have credit for travel that will hopefully take me back to Wales and Scotland, so that’s a positive start.
Anything else is a bonus.
I hope your 2022 is better than 2021.
gone fishin'
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 19 December 2021].
untitled #15
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 23 December 2021].
And here's the final season's grievings image for 2021!
I hope you've enjoyed these again this year.
Let me know in the comments if you think I should continue sharing these in December 2022, or if you've had enough of this curated series!
untitled #27
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 21 December 2021].
This image is the 'before' picture of sister.
A good deed was done between captures by my companion in righting the Christmas tree that had fallen during the previous night's heavy rain.
And this is the penultimate season's grievings image for 2021!
reindeer, roses and wreaths
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 19 December 2021].
the headless horseman
[I originally posted this image as early access for my Patreon patrons on 12 December 2021].
untitled #30
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 17 December 2021].
untitled #9
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 15 December 2021].
untitled #30
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 13 December 2021].
fruitful
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 11 December 2021].