Bonita in Richmond Park

A Barbour jacket is an institution, and the three Royal Warrants are well earned. They are cold when it is cold, and hot when it is hot because they are thin and don't breathe, but they are also tough, and look better with a few rips and scars. The pockets in my own Border jacket are gargantuan, and quite comfortably accomodate magazines, lenses and any other bric-a-brac with which I feel inclined to stuff them. Resting comfortably on a shoulder, they cover the largest camera and are as such the perfect security. There is nothing quite so perfect or English as fighting the wind through fields on a blustery day with a warm Shetland jumper and a windproof Barbour jacket, ideally with a dog and a gun. They've also drifted in and out of fashion in Town, and here Yuliana sports one as we stroll past the stags and deer in Richmond Park.

Surveillance in a Democracy

Any government, corporation or organisation is composed of a turnover of people. People are fallable. Some people ain't no good. Surveillance increases the power that these unseen individuals have over me by increasing my visibility. Visibility is a trap, said Foucault, despite the idea that those with nothing to hide have nothing to fear.

I act according to what I believe to be right. But I may be penalised for actions that another individual may believe to be wrong. Were I to criticise and ridicule the idea that there is an all powerful man in the sky prelonging patriarchal prejudices and inflaming opinions, there could be a majority without access to our education that would disagree and may act against me.

It is quite widely known that the German government had conducted a census after the First World War in order to aid the rebuilding and to help with welfare. It listed large amounts of Jews. When the political environment swung further right, the same lists were put to a horrible use.

Therefore, I disagree with extensive surveillance not because I do not think that I act rightly, but because I believe that there is a majority who still do not understand the difference between right and wrong, and I do not want to be at their ignorant mercy.

The Thames Festival

A huge amount of people watched the fireworks that marked the end of this year's Thames Festival. After photographing the parade, I got in place for the fireworks at a vantage point on Hungerford Bridge. Deciding that there was a better view from the stone balcony on the bridge, I went past a barrier and set up my tripod. To my dismay, I was moved by a constable of the Health and Safety brigade, keen to see that I would not choose this momentous occasion to leap into the chilly Thames, or be pushed in by the surging mass of a couple of cold individuals. With no possibility of setting up now, I turned my camera on those people watching the fireworks, who stood universally transfixed. With the fireworks outside of the frame, this otherwise empty space in London's heart now is scattered with silent watchers.

Wikileaks Truth in Politics

It's been an interesting week. Got more of an insight into the Afghanistan war after Wikileaks published another variant of 'truth'. I once met a journalist who said that all the photographs in the world can't really change politics; sure, they may make us mad, horrified or incensed to revolt, but nothing really comes from it. A scuffle with men who are just like you bar a uniform, and nothing changes. I'm not sure that this is true, and if it were, if it is such a bad thing anyway. Everyone ought fear a powered majority.

London - By the Thames

Paris - Indeed where else?

Wiltshire - Army Polo

Yuliana, St James Square and Venezia

Ben Evans Photography.com Updated

Just updated www.benevansphotography.com - a complete, arduous overhaul that I think is much better. Get in touch and let me know what you think!

Ben

Interesting to think that the whole hill would be white underneath, evidenced by a crude horse-scrape.

Thinking about The Wheel today. So much depends on being still!

www.benevansphotography.com

Pascoe

And I have plugged in...

A blog. Because the part of me I try to hide wants to try to shout.