Roger Vaughan SNAPSHOTS of GIRLS
Highlights of my miserable life in Rugby
I give up. I’ve had these scans lying around on my computer for several months now and just couldn’t be arsed to finish off editing them. Why? Probably because they have been tricky to colour match. Some sets of snaps look consistent, are easy-peasy to work on, and I can’t wait to get them uploaded, but others I can gladly leave be and on occasions forget I had even started to prepare them. Hard graft? Stuff it!
ADULTS ONLY
Some more ropey sets taken around the time I started to switch to digital from film. I couldn’t afford one of the early DSLR’s so I was using point and shoot digital cameras that by modern day standards were far worse than the camera in your phone. White balance indoors was a real pain in the arse, still is mind you, so I was forever fine tuning in an attempt to get consistent results. The models must have wondered what the hell was going on. One minute I was shooting with a professional film camera, the next snapping away with little digital cameras with huge flashguns mounted on top. I took almost 30,000 snaps with these compacts before I could justify my first DSLR and regretfully consign my film cameras to the dustbin of history.
ADULTS ONLY
On Tuesday I decided it was about time I blew away my winter cobwebs and headed out of Rugby for a bit of culture at the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery. I enjoy looking at the odd painting but most of the collection there failed to inspire me. Just not my cup of tea I’m afraid. The Staffordshire Hoard, housed at the museum, is a different kettle of fish though. With the tools available around 1400 years ago how the hell did they make some of that stuff. When I got home I was knackered. I checked my iPhone and found I had walked over 7 miles! My next trip out will involve less walking and more looking at the scenery from a train methinks.
ADULTS ONLY
So once again the festive phase of gluttony and excessive credit card bills is upon us. Oh joy.
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I’m not clever enough to decipher the hidden meaning of the poem but I bet it’s something along the lines of getting Maud outside alone to give her a good boning in amongst the flower beds. I on the other hand would only ask her out into the garden to pose for some artistic snapshots. True gentleman me.
ADULTS ONLY
