summer ghosting

I've never really been much of a fan of summer. Every time I have to go out in the sun, it has always been greeted with dread. So much dread.
In fact, the only time I really enjoy going out is when there's a torrential downpour.

Slightly lower temperatures allow for layering, and the rain usually calls for welly-wearing -- which is always a plus in my book!

However, I figured complaining about the heat (which is all I do, apparently) is no fun. "Summer", and therefore the freedom it brings, is almost at an end, and I realize, I haven't really done much summer frolicking!

So one day, Myra and I decided to finally embrace this damned season, put on swimsuits and head to the island. But of course, it poured that day, so we scavenged the St Lawrence market for statement accessories and communist paraphernalia instead.

When it cleared up later that day, we basked in the usually dreaded sun at the manmade beach down at Harbourfront, where the above instant photos were taken. The camera's default setting had the tendency to make me look like a ghost -- a summer ghost.

This past Friday, I ended up at the Danforth Music Hall for Purity Ring and Dirty Projectors.
Purity Ring is what I fancy Tom Lowery and I would be like if we were to pursue forming a [real] band -- weird and dream-like (complete with grotesque, anatomical lyricism with a cutesy spin -- haha, what?):

Seeing Dirty Projectors live made me all nostalgic and sad-like (but not really, Melody and I were actually quite giggly but that's a whole other story). Nostalgia did hit me inside, though; it "cut open my sternum and pull(ed) my little ribs around," kinda.


"Bitte Orca" oddly served as the go-to soundtrack for afternoon teas in Oxford. Very atypical, but things that don't usually seem right or proper end up being so apt sometimes. Life is funny that way.

This is how my Oxford kitchen looked like in the afternoons -- with Marie as a permanent staple. (I could lie and say the minimalist look was deliberate but you'd see right through it, anyway.)


Today happens to be Marie's birthday (whose back I've photographed too many a time), prompting the following nostalgia/mush-fueled photo-purge.

walking back to Worcester after the usual afternoon jaunt around Oxford (not without getting dinner at Jericho first, obviously)

Edinburgh

Rough Trade photo booth

Stratford-upon-Avon

Happy Sunday!

more NXNE '12 photos...

The Dead Ships at the Static Launch

from Of A Kind

at the El Mo

Army Girls

Zulu Winter at The Rivoli

Zulu Winter at Urban Outfitters

Remember when I tried to photograph musicians' footwear and said something about the guys from Zulu Winter all having shoes with a lot of character?

The English weather isn't very kind to shoes. I can vouch for that, for sure. Will's kicks above almost resemble my trusty oxfords from Oxford (which I might end up featuring on this here blog, maybe).


Here's Morgan photographing the band in an alley. (Photos of polaroids here.)

DIIV being filmed:



The final product; see if you can spot me:

Urban Outfitters x NXNE: Live @ UO part II from Sean L T Cartwright on Vimeo.

David's mismatched socks at Dundas Square

photo diary: this past Victoria Day long weekend

Talent-vines Day

This week is all about the lurrve (or more accurately put, the overrated and exhausting romantic connotations brought about by this "holiday") -- being in favour of/against it.
On Tuesday, I went to this Valentines gig at Oz Studios. Tonight, Static Zine & The Continuist are hosting an Anti-Valentines party. Two extremes that cancel each other out.

interruption of regular programming: Oxford in the summer (Nostalgia 2012)

The Heart Is a Winter Wanderer

It's been an unseasonably warm winter. It almost seems like we've skipped the season altogether. We went from pretty fall straight to damp spring. What's the deal, Mother Nature?

I've been aching to head down to the Beaches for some time now. There's something about it this time of year that seems really appealing to me. (Perhaps it's the absence of the scorching heat or bikini-clad crowds. Maybe both.)

Since the end of term, I really haven't done much of anything besides twiddle my thumbs, re-watch episodes of Daria while crafting, and get sick due to eating too much junk food so fast, it made my head spin! (But let's not get into that on this here blog.)

Yesterday, Georgia and I went down by the water and pretended we were somewhere in Wales, starring in an independent film. (It would be a coming of age story, and the screenplay would be entirely in Welsh, but don't worry, there'd be English subtitles, yep.)
(FACT: There isn't actually a single word for "yes" or "no" in the Welsh language.)





These two ducks braved the cold water - the two of them against the cold, cold world. How romantic.







I'm also currently re-reading Franny & Zooey for the nth time. "Sometimes I see me dead in the rain" would probably be quoted in our imaginary Welsh indie flick.