In the eighties, as a teenager, I only shot on black and white - HP5 preferably or FP4 if they'd run out of the higher speed. I was making gritty, grainy, street photography that matched the hard times in the Midlands under Thatcher.
I thought that by something like 2019 I might have grown out of that aesthetic, especially since I moved to a Surrey stockbroker town. But no, you can take the boy out of Brum, but...
This is a derelict site that's been left to rot for more than ten years. Some people have moved in, I think to a kind of dug-out cave under the road. I don't know, I haven't been in. There's always something going on over there, they've nicked some scaffolding from over the road and made some sort of structure, the other day when I was walking up they were clearly having a fire. Every now and then the owners of the land send someone along to move them on. The fences come down and then go back up again. But the people don't seem to go away for long. I don't know if anyone actually sits in this chair and watches the world go by but it caught my eye as not looking out of place in eighties Toxteth or somewhere.
