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snippets [10 Jul 2009|03:04pm] peony, originally uploaded by heyoka. Zot, old tottery tiny cat, is sick again. She is now utterly stuffed with antibiotics (and tuna) has stopped doing icky things, and is fast asleep on my feet. Bad: she's lost more weight and is very wobbly and scruffy. Good: no signs of dodgy thyroid things or anything else. Also good: being able to work from home so I can provide feet to sleep on and regular snacky treats. Photos: summer project planning progresses in tiny hops and shuffles forward, and a few back. Much silence. Gah. But, I got to photograph the lovely Alice on Sunday (though have as yet failed to scan the negs. Sorry. Am rubbish.) Big maybes: are cooking. Next meeting on this is on the 21st, to discuss what I need to do in order to do what I want to do. Hurrah! Am making lists. (Would be useful to talk to any of you academic types, as now would be a good time to try to talk me out of it, or further into it, as I ponder specifics rather than leaping around and ZOMG-ing at possibilities.) Gosh. That was dull. Who's up for a pint and/or photosession this weekend? 21 comments|post comment

scraps and fragments [16 Jun 2009|08:47pm] snarl, june 2009, originally uploaded by heyoka. Saturday, all day, in the darkroom, doing a first batch of test prints from the Imaginary Cities plates to date--I needed to figure out if they'd print at all, given that they are ambrotypes and hence very, very thin negs. First pass looks promising. Nothing like final prints, but reassuring. Except for my denseness: I always forget that the brown tones of viradon drop back quite so much when they dry, so the toning's a bit too damn subtle. Next to invisible, even. Making plans for projects. There's too much up in the air right now, which is making me twitch slightly. It's tempting to just hide away and dig deeper into the Cities stuff, or try to rock my pt/pd prints to the next stage of not-suckiness. Too many branching paths, not enough damn time. Waterlog? I shut up about that, because it's too damn boring. I think I'm back from France again, home in Dover. It's been so long since I started that I may have under-counted. I was being slack, down to swimming just once or twice a week for a while, but back to the tedious slog every other day again. Oh, joy. (But hello muscles!) Smoking? Gah. Off the wagon with a bruising thud there. Keeping it to three or fewer a day, and nothing before evening, but there have been lapses on that too. I am rubbish at quitting smoking. Zot, that crazy old bird, seemed to have a close run in with the reaper a couple of weeks back, but kicked his bony arse. She is mighty. 2 comments|post comment

look away now if you can't deal with the kitty pic [15 Jun 2009|11:13pm] zot does not like to be woken. zot will kill you with her eyes. And then maybe she can get some peace and quiet., originally uploaded by heyoka. zot: older, smaller and crazier than ever before. another one, with bonus snarl? 3 comments|post comment

fragments [25 May 2009|09:45pm] an extract from History of an Imaginary City, originally uploaded by heyoka. I work for an organisation where some of the rules and processes would fuck with Kafka's head. They've been fucking with mine. I have been having over-detailed, practical dreams about images and about printing, about about darkened rooms with glowing glass plates, and about making hugely complicated books. My night brain has very ambitious plans. I wake up and realise I don't have the skills. Not yet. I dropped a whole pile of glass plates on Sunday. Fortunately they were still blank, not even washed--I hate cleaning the glass, so that would have been howl-inducing--but of course I have twice ended up with almost invisibly thin glass splinters in my feet, puncture wounds. One mid-exposure, and, I couldn't bear to lose the image I was making but, and was hopping round madly with the timer in my hand while Snarl hunted tweezers and I swore and we both scrabbled at the glinting shard in my foot. And extracted it just in time to snick the shutter closed so I could step tiny blood spots all the way to the bathroom (one sock on, one sock off) to develop the plate before it dried. Friday, after work, sitting on the bench outside the park--the local park is far too swanky to allow mere locals inside, it's keyholders only--drinking wine in the sideways falling sun, squinting, and rambling and ranting about language and perception and the naming of names while almost-neighbours walked past and pretended not to see the slightly sozzled riffraff on the bench outside their iron-gated park. Making loops of history and now, with blackened fingers and half-told stories from someone else's memories. 5 comments|post comment

[12 May 2009|08:54pm] vii., originally uploaded by heyoka. 7 comments|post comment

dreams of cold flowers, plates of coincidence [07 May 2009|09:19pm] extract from History of an Imaginary City, originally uploaded by heyoka. Yes, I know other people's dreams are even more boring than other people's drug experiences, but, when you dream that your entire body is tattooed with flowers (like 18th century botanical drawings, like fabric) without gaps, as a single piece, and you remember the cold, cold feeling of your entirely-inked skin, fuck it, you get to mention it a few times, even if people yawn and glaze over. Flower skin. * It was only 24 hours after I made these plates that I realised that the object on the top left panel was, um, pocketed accidentally (no, truly, I just have a bad habit of picking up pebbles) at the ruins of a temple to Ishtar. Yes. Now try and decipher one of those texts. See? I told you something odd was going on with this series. To bring this back down to earth, when I went to develop the right hand plate, kitsune stole my subject matter, ate it, and threw up all over the sitting room. Cheers, cat. 3 comments|post comment

[05 May 2009|10:51pm] extract from History of an Imaginary City, originally uploaded by heyoka. This was made for the first wet plate collodion day, in honour of Frederick Scott Archer, who invented the process. This series is heading off in about seven directions at once, and eating my head. I've never made pictures that have required a reading list before. progress, assorted. Swimming. Slowly, getting there. Yes. Smoking. I'm not a smoker right now. Really, I'm not, but I had a couple of sneaky cigarettes in evening air, sitting on the front steps, and that seems OK but I shouldn't go making a habit of if. Work. Complicated. Dancing on shifting sands. 3 comments|post comment

invisible heyoka is invisble [28 Apr 2009|11:48am] Crap. Guess who forgot to renew her primary domain? And thanks, stupid stupid registrar, for sending the reminder email to a ten year dead email address, rather than, you know, to the ONE LISTED AS MY PRIMARY CONTACT MAIL. Grr. If you've sent mail to h@h in the last 12 hours...you might want to send it to my real name at gmail. post comment

just on the off-chance... [27 Apr 2009|01:40pm] Does anyone local have a spare ADSL modem/router they are not using? Wireless? The old one is in the last stuttering moments of its life (a few squeaks of connection at a time) and there's a bad outbreak of skintness going on, so, just on the off-chance someone has a spare to tide us over... 13 comments|post comment

[24 Apr 2009|02:41pm] an extract from History of an Imaginary City, originally uploaded by heyoka. nobody punched me and I didn't fall downstairs. I need a little badge that reads "ZOMG! NOTHING happened to me." because, you know, hi, I'm not getting even slightly self-conscious about the revoltingly horrid EYE OF BLOOD that I am currently sporting and the ZOMG!s and slightly wary questions it prompts. (it's not nearly as bad as it was yesterday. It's already down to just the corner and a weird stripe rather than solid all the way to the iris. Eyes are freaky and weird, no?) art angst I was meant to write an application for a bursary for a photography thing last night, but instead had to have minor (ish) crises of faith, lots and lots of angst* and lots of hand-waving ranting, and more wine than makes a coherent art wank statement. Ho hum. Still, that's what lunchtimes are for. Godspeed, little application. There was extra angst, as I chickened out of applying for an Arts Council grant last week, as I had decided that I didn't deserve one. Yeah. (*There was a major bonus and diversion from the angst session, in which I misheard snarl talking about kindergarteners as "kitten gardeners", at which point I couldn't breathe or speak for a while as the mental pictures were just too too good.) pinholery It's world pinhole photography day on sunday. Come and join us on the lowfi cheapskate side of life! 3 comments|post comment

[19 Apr 2009|03:07pm] extract from History of an Imaginary City, originally uploaded by heyoka. Tired but mighty: I swam a hundred lengths today. That's two and a half kilometres, and significantly more than I can walk. Spending the rest of the day lolling on the sofa rather defeats the purpose of all this though, no? And it's two weeks since the last cigarette. They have been very, very long weeks. Snarl is a hero of the revolution for dealing with me through this. And I am really rather ridiculously proud of myself--despite the mood swings and whining--though the only reason I've not had a cigarette is because there is no way I want to go through those initial few days again in a hurry. Bleh. Here's hoping I can stop thinking about it so much soon. It's very dull. And the Open University have now written to me to tell me that they are counting almost two years of my original college stuff as Real and Transferable (even the internal college exams). Not the absolute maximum of 240 points, but only 30 points shy of that. Huzzah. Saw Copenhagen last night, at the Lyceum. Really good production--though it had some annoying bum notes in the what-were-they-thinking category of pointless AV additions--with very strong performances. Had an utterly mortifying moment earlier this week, when I was over in Glasgow for a meeting. Arrived to find that there was building work going on, the lifts were out, and the organisation was on the very very high up first floor. I stood at the bottom of the stairs for a while wondering what the hell to do, to phone and make excuses and pretend that I had missed my train, or what? Then got the hell over myself, and stopped being feeble, and even though I was the interloper in a meeting of Very Important People, asked if they would be so kind as to move the meeting to the ground floor. Which they did. And yes, of course I apologised too much. Gah. Work has been eating my life. I need more time to make pictures. waterlog: um, I lost count somewhere along the line. I've not been swimming often enough. I think I'm down to 18k left on the return trip. Whatever. I might have gone a little further, but, call that fighting against the waves and currents. 17 down, 18 to go. 3 comments|post comment

[12 Apr 2009|11:00pm] ., originally uploaded by heyoka. I really, really, hugely, horribly, truly want a cigarette. Gah. post comment

the good, the bad, the ugly [09 Apr 2009|01:02pm] The good? Yesterday, after x-rays and the usual routine of poking and prodding and hopping about, my surgeon has pronounced me to be fabulous, better than he ever expected, and declared his own handiwork to be rather magnificent. I couldn't agree more. All my hardware is just where it should be. No, this won't last forever, and I'll never be able to go stickless, regain the use of muscles that don't connect to anything, climb stairs, row, go for a run, or do a whole raft of other things, but so what? I can walk and I'm out of pain. We won. Two years ago, I was in hospital missing one hip, peeing bright orange while being treated for a particularly resistant bone infection, and it was entirely possible that it was game over on walking. Now? I'm nearly halfway back from swimming to France. My surgeon is magnificent, and I am too. So there. (forgive me, I know this hip stuff is old news, but I need to remind myself of the obvious sometimes, on those days when I'm a bit creaky, or grumpy that I have limits, or annoyed when the numbness and wobble is back. Remind myself that this is so far above and beyond where I could have been, and celebrate that rather than whinge about being rubbish.) There is no bad. The ugly? Nicotine withdrawal symptoms. Man. Just past the 72 hour mark now, and hoping this is where the physical stuff starts trailing off and I lose the sense of wanting to crawl out of my own skin. Soon, please. 21 comments|post comment

[07 Apr 2009|11:54am] Sick of eating mints. Have bitten off all my fingernails instead. This part will be over soon, right? 18 comments|post comment

achtung! achtung! [06 Apr 2009|12:02pm] self portrait smoking, originally uploaded by heyoka. I had a cigarette this morning, and, if I don’t crack, that’s me done for now. Be gentle, and wear flameproof clothing around me for the next couple of weeks at least, because if I’m not smoking, I may be more than a little dragonish. Please be extra nice to Snarl, as my poor beloved will get the brunt of this. Why? It’s how I’m going to find the money for my OU courses, and when it comes down to a straight swap between the two, much as I love smoking (and yes, I really do enjoy it) studying will have to win. Three quid into a jar, every day from now until I’m done. I can’t bear the idea of being thwarted by skintness. Wiped out by spring-somnia, and I’ve not swum for over a week now. I’m back in the water this evening though, whatever. I’m going to try to swim, or go to the gym, every day for the next week or so, as distraction while I try to get over the first horrible stretch. It might get me sleeping again, too. 4 comments|post comment

five pounds of pest [31 Mar 2009|07:58pm] the pirate and his parrot, originally uploaded by heyoka. Tomorrow is Zot's official birthday--we don't know her exact birthday, what with her being a foundling and all, but april the first is a remarkably good fit and close enough. Tiny, daft, and utterly fearless little beast, now she's turning 18. I'd take her to the pub, but it tends to be full of dee-oh-gees. She'd love it, but she's worryingly snack-sized. I might make fishcakes, instead. ETA: zot's response to being informed of international birthday wishes: "mrr-rr-RR?" and a truly stinktastic salmon-scented yawn. 14 comments|post comment

[31 Mar 2009|08:29am] Haje, 2009, originally uploaded by heyoka. I finally developed a stack of rolls of film. Here's Sharq. It's a most nerve-wracking experience to photograph another photographer. Spent all of Saturday at a photography conference, and had a glorious time. I am all enthused with possibilities. The springtime bout of insomnia is back. I'm about a night and half down on sleep since Friday night, and look like someone has been gouging hollows under my eyes. Not good. Can't get to sleep, can't stay asleep. Dreaming is weird, tweety birds are tweety very early. Took the morning off yesterday to try to get some kip, but was repeatedly woken up by doorbells and phones. Gah. It will pass. But, every year I seem to get a bout of this. Thanks for title suggestions on the ambros. Am taking it back into my lair to ponder some more. waterlog: 2.5k last week, and no swimming at the weekend because of being Too Damn Busy, so, 25.5k left to go. I need to get a move on. 3 comments|post comment

does not swim well with other children [24 Mar 2009|01:03pm] And sometimes I think they do it deliberately. ( ...very very petty ranting about Other People's Idiocy of which, of course, one is never, ever guilty oneself. Ahem. ) 11 comments|post comment

girly hair shit & getting things done [22 Mar 2009|06:28pm] For those who are curious, about the great mop-growing experiment...I've gone from my last bob in 2005 to waist length, with one hefty trim about 18 months ago. Still no split ends, but damn, there's a lot of wispy silver coming in. I am officially Wiped Out. An fairly successful all day session in the darkroom, and, er, yeah, I have a bad habit of listening to music very loudly and dancing around in there--hell, no one can see me--while waiting for things to shimmy up in their chemical baths, and then three hours sitting on a hard chair to watch a play--which was huge fun--and oi, am I ever creaky. So, obviously, I went swimming, and swam my wobbly little legs off. I shall not move from the sofa for a while, except to look pathetic, and yet somehow awesome as I have earned my creakiness. I think I need brandy. And cake. Mymble has spent all afternoon as a kitty-wrap, with just her face sticking out from a rolled up duvet. She may have the right idea about how to spend a sunday. waterlog: two thousand metres today, so that's 7 down and 28k more to get back from Calais to Dover. No music today, and man, that swim seemed to go on forever. 11 comments|post comment

tiny amusements [20 Mar 2009|05:48pm] When your second-least-favourite person in Edinburgh collars you on the bus, and sits next to you, ignores your book, and launches into a conversation...try getting a howling cliché into every single statement you make, just to see if they will notice before you get the giggles. It's a nice evening. I got off the bus a few stops early and walked. I just couldn't take it any more. 10 comments|post comment

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