Albion Archives - Museum of Photocopies

Clayton Orange Alternative

We must take our luck where we can. Hence a dreamlike visitation of Wrocław’s Krasnoludek in East Lancashire. Victorian streets that cling on in the gloaming, spaces where schools and factories were, pubs that made way for motorways. We need a better narrative. Myths are needed to make us feel noticed, or carefree, again.

Orange-Alternative-Clayton-1 — A photo (using iPhone 11) of a photocopy of a pencil, crayon and ink drawing of mythological happenings in Clayton-Le-Moors, East Lancashire. A Wrocław Krasnoludek, mounted on a ceremonial C17th lion, hails the future.

Orange-Alternative-Clayton-4 — A photo (using iPhone 11) of a photocopy of a pencil, crayon and ink drawing of mythological happenings in Clayton-Le-Moors, East Lancashire. An early dinosaur eats a Beatles hanger on amidst the rubble of St James’ Infants school.

Orange-Alternative-Clayton-2 — A photo (using iPhone 11) of a photocopy of a pencil, photocopy collage, crayon and ink drawing of mythological happenings in Clayton-Le-Moors, East Lancashire. The spirit of long lost pub The Load of Mischief unchained and Central American in aspect.

Orange-Alternative-Clayton-3 — A photo (using iPhone 11) of a photocopy of a pencil, crayon and ink drawing of mythological happenings in Clayton-Le-Moors, East Lancashire. Note the Edward VII postbox. And blue feathered shaman. The head is that of Sir Philip Sydney.

The Theory of the Duck #3

There is good and there is evil. In between, somewhere, is the duck.

These words, spoken by Accrington artist and visionary Tim Whittaker, come back to haunt us in these ribald, brittle, stretched months of 2020 and 2021, where ghosts of the threshing floor rise to meet us.

These photocopies hark back to another, happier time and maybe presage a third.

We just need to locate the duck.

You have to act. Burn them, commune with their indolent, witless, stolid spirit. Or photocopy them endlessly to erase their presence.
Maybe you can draw on humanity’s creative commons to give you another answer. It’s what the internet is for.

I’m staying in my lane. To be precise, Hollins Lane. But that stops in Baxenden. Where then?

Theory of the Duck #9 — An iphone 7 photograph of a photocopy of an iphone 4 photograph, depicting Accrington ring road, which expertly filleted a town that sat (thanks to the conjoining of Burnley and Blackburn Roads) on a perfect North-South, East-West axis. It is time for action. It is time to find Tim Whittaker’s duck. To find the auguries for the duck, download and photocopy, and then set alight in obeisance to the deity of your choosing. It is the only way to commune with a future England, whilst processing 70 years of a couch potato worldview, held together by Airfix glue. When using a chafing dish (or similar vessel) please heed the words of Scorpio Murtlock. Appease the shades of your dwelling and burn laurel and alder before watching the copy of Accrington Pals Health Centre go up in smoke. (Students of the photocopy will notice the role of the small circular cut out piece of paper, a refugee from some binding action. See it as a comet coming.

Theory of the Duck #4 — An iphone 7 photograph of a photocopy of an iphone 4 photograph, depicting where Saint James’ Infants School once stood in Clayton le Moors. What fun we had in 1975. It is time for action. It is time to find Tim Whittaker’s duck. To find the auguries for the duck, download and photocopy, and then set alight in obeisance to the deity of your choosing. It is the only way to commune with a future England, whilst processing 70 years of a couch potato worldview, held together by Airfix glue. When using a chafing dish (or similar vessel) please heed the words of Scorpio Murtlock. Appease the shades of your dwelling and burn laurel and alder before watching the copy of Accrington Pals Health Centre go up in smoke. (Students of the photocopy will notice the role of the small circular cut out piece of paper, a refugee from some binding action. See it as a comet coming.

The Theory of the Duck #2

There is good and there is evil. In between, somewhere, is the duck.

These photocopies hark back to another, happier time and maybe presage a third.

We just need to locate the duck.

I’m staying in my lane. To be precise, Hollins Lane. But that stops in Baxenden. Where then?

Theory of the Duck #8 — An iphone 7 photograph of a photocopy of an iphone 4 photograph, depictingThe Grey Horse, Whalley Road. Not to be confused with the Greyhound down the road, where the Photocopier’s direct relatives were laid out after the Moorfield pit disaster sometime in the 1880s. It is time for action. It is time to find Tim Whittaker’s duck. To find the auguries for the duck, download and photocopy, and then set alight in obeisance to the deity of your choosing. It is the only way to commune with a future England, whilst processing 70 years of a couch potato worldview, held together by Airfix glue. When using a chafing dish (or similar vessel) please heed the words of Scorpio Murtlock. Appease the shades of your dwelling and burn laurel and alder before watching the copy of Accrington Pals Health Centre go up in smoke. (Students of the photocopy will notice the role of the small circular cut out piece of paper, a refugee from some binding action. See it as a comet coming.

Theory of the Duck #6 — An iphone 7 photograph of a photocopy of an iphone 4 photograph, depicting the darts board in the Grey Horse Whalley Road, Accrington. Taken during a Christmas long ago. It is time for action. It is time to find Tim Whittaker’s duck. To find the auguries for the duck, download and photocopy, and then set alight in obeisance to the deity of your choosing. It is the only way to commune with a future England, whilst processing 70 years of a couch potato worldview, held together by Airfix glue. When using a chafing dish (or similar vessel) please heed the words of Scorpio Murtlock. Appease the shades of your dwelling and burn laurel and alder before watching the copy of Accrington Pals Health Centre go up in smoke. (Students of the photocopy will notice the role of the small circular cut out piece of paper, a refugee from some binding action. See it as a comet coming.

The Theory of the Duck #1

There is good and there is evil. In between, somewhere, is the duck.

These photocopies hark back to another, happier time and maybe presage a third.

We just need to locate the duck.

I’m staying in my lane. To be precise, Hollins Lane. But that stops in Baxenden. Where then?

Theory of the Duck #3 — An iphone 7 photograph of a photocopy of an iphone 4 photograph, depicting a bypass in Accrington. Like many in the North, local residents can say “I remember when it was all houses around here”. It is time for action. It is time to find Tim Whittaker’s duck. To find the auguries for the duck, download and photocopy, and then set alight in obeisance to the deity of your choosing. It is the only way to commune with a future England, whilst processing 70 years of a couch potato worldview, held together by Airfix glue. When using a chafing dish (or similar vessel) please heed the words of Scorpio Murtlock. Appease the shades of your dwelling and burn laurel and alder before watching the copy of Accrington Pals Health Centre go up in smoke. (Students of the photocopy will notice the role of the small circular cut out piece of paper, a refugee from some binding action. See it as a comet coming.

Theory of the Duck #5 — An iphone 7 photograph of a photocopy of an iphone 4 photograph, depicting Accrington War Memorial. the Crown Green Bowling club is just round the back. It is time for action. It is time to find Tim Whittaker’s duck. To find the auguries for the duck, download and photocopy, and then set alight in obeisance to the deity of your choosing. It is the only way to commune with a future England, whilst processing 70 years of a couch potato worldview, held together by Airfix glue. When using a chafing dish (or similar vessel) please heed the words of Scorpio Murtlock. Appease the shades of your dwelling and burn laurel and alder before watching the copy of Accrington Pals Health Centre go up in smoke. (Students of the photocopy will notice the role of the small circular cut out piece of paper, a refugee from some binding action. See it as a comet coming.

Theory of the Duck #7 — An iphone 7 photograph of a photocopy of an iphone 4 photograph, depicting the bunger in The Grey Horse, Accrington. In spaces like these, Britain’s ruin is continually hatched. It is time for action. It is time to find Tim Whittaker’s duck. To find the auguries for the duck, download and photocopy, and then set alight in obeisance to the deity of your choosing. It is the only way to commune with a future England, whilst processing 70 years of a couch potato worldview, held together by Airfix glue. When using a chafing dish (or similar vessel) please heed the words of Scorpio Murtlock. Appease the shades of your dwelling and burn laurel and alder before watching the copy of Accrington Pals Health Centre go up in smoke. (Students of the photocopy will notice the role of the small circular cut out piece of paper, a refugee from some binding action. See it as a comet coming.

Doggerland Blues #4

What does the original matter when you’ve got a copy that cost more? It’s much more fun to be in Doggerland, Doggerland under Sea, where nothing ever matters, to you or to me.

Doggerland #12 — Digital photo of a black and white photocopy (on 200gsm coloured paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland #13 — Digital photo of a black and white photocopy (on 200gsm coloured paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland #14 — Digital photo of a black and white photocopy (on 200gsm coloured paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland Blues #3

Between the worlds of Post Card and Pod Cast lies a new map of hell. It’s much more fun to be in Doggerland, Doggerland under Sea, where nothing ever matters, to you or to me.

Doggerland #9 — Digital photo of a black and white photocopy (on 200gsm paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland #10 — Digital photo of a black and white photocopy (on 200gsm paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland #11 — Digital photo of a black and white photocopy (on 200gsm paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland Blues #2

Away from the internet, away from the affray, away from the melting Liquid Crystal Display. It’s much more fun to be in Doggerland, Doggerland under Sea, where nothing ever matters, to you or to me.

Doggerland #6 — Digital photo of a black and white photocopy (on 200gsm paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland #7 — Digital photo of a black and white photocopy (on 200gsm paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland #8 — Digital photo of a black and white photocopy (on 200gsm paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland Blues #1

God, the art world bores me. Being an artist? You might as well be an astronaut. It’s all so serious and full of important things to do. It’s much more fun to be in Doggerland, Doggerland under Sea, where nothing ever matters, to you or to me.

Digital photo of a colour photocopy (on 200gsm paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The colours are courtesy of pencil, coloured inks and water-based colour pencils. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland #2 — Digital photo of a colour photocopy (on 200gsm paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The colours are courtesy of pencil, coloured inks and water-based colour pencils. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Doggerland #3 — Digital photo of a colour photocopy (on 200gsm paper of a freehand drawing (using dip pen and Indian ink) on a postcard made of heavy watercolour paper. The colours are courtesy of pencil, coloured inks and water-based colour pencils. The images depict imaginary inhabitants of Doggerland, a once vast stretch of land that joined mainland Europe and the British Isles. Now it lies under the English Channel and the North Sea. At the time of writing, each original postcard (of a series of 14) is in the post, going elsewhere, maybe never to reach where they’ve been sent; like the subjects depicted on them.

Sleep Life Bedroom-Bathroom-Toilet 2

Where do we go and what do we do when we sleep? There is plenty of activity and sensations to document. And what of the space where #SleepLife happens, how do they change? This is one such document, of a space in Accrington that needs a new #SleepLife, and quietly suffered a temporary interregnum. It’s old one has ended.