These are photographs that I wanted to make into photocopies, but didn’t. Not because of their suitability or otherwise as I’m not sure whether the concept of suitability, as such, plays any part in this particular reproductive process. I still think that the grey furze of the photocopied image does to some extent replicate the film between your sight and inner sight. In that respect anything photocopied (in effect performing the act of taking one step away) brings us one step closer to understanding something.
But sometimes the time between the photograph, or drawing, or the discovery of the objet trouvé, takes time to determine. In this series of posts I also wanted to show you what East Lancashire looks like in winter from the top of a bus. I’ve had many an adventure on the bus to Manchester, and heard lots of stories, like “what would die first in a desert, a rat, or a camel?”
Who can tell?
Time doing nothing is not time wasted. (Georges Remi).
Photo of a bus journey through Rossendale. The Photocopier remembers going to a party on a Sunday afternoon round this area in 1987. The Photographer takes lots of bad, “instant” photos on his phone – usually without any subject in mind – in the expectation that one day he will get round to photocopying them and “doing something with them.” Normally that doesn’t happen. Still the idea of reproducing the act of documenting nothing in particular appeals to the Photocopier. What is worthless, the thought, the process, or the end result?
Photo of a bus journey through Rossendale. The Photocopier takes lots of bad, “instant” photos on his phone – usually without any subject in mind – in the expectation that one day he will get round to photocopying them and “doing something with them.” Normally that doesn’t happen. Still the idea of reproducing the act of documenting nothing in particular appeals to the Photocopier. What is worthless, the thought, the process, or the end result?
Photo of a bus journey through Rossendale (though this is Baxenden, Hollands Pies to be precise). The Photocopier takes lots of bad, “instant” photos on his phone – usually without any subject in mind – in the expectation that one day he will get round to photocopying them and “doing something with them.” Normally that doesn’t happen. Still the idea of reproducing the act of documenting nothing in particular appeals to the Photocopier. What is worthless, the thought, the process, or the end result?
