As I may have mentioned earlier, I have lived in the leafy county of Hampshire, England, for my whole life. Born and raised, I may as well have an ear of corn between my teeth. In recent years, since I came of majority, I’ve frequented a rustic Pub (Public House/Drinking Establishment/Community Hub/Mecca, however you define it) which sits on the High Street in my quaint little village. Ah, if those walls could tell stories…
The Waggon and Horses has a long history as a meeting point in the village, and (to me) really sews together our little community in a neutral place which is almost always dominated by jovial laughter. It holds a special place in the hearts of all the regular customers, whom I have both served (during my 9 months working there) and become.
Recently (in a fit of madness!) I decided to start practicing my photographical skills. If I intend to climb the rungs of the Location Department for the Film Industry – if my writing pipe-dream goes up in smoke – then I need to be able to take decent pictures of Locations we intend to use; no director wants to pick his setting only to arrive and discover that the place is completely different to the out-of-focus, hazy, image he/she was pitched. So, I’ve been trying to improve, hatcheting my way through settings and such on my Dad’s old Canon in search of the perfect picture. I don’t think I’ve succeeded yet, but there’s yet time for improvement. It’ll take some experimentation.
Where better to experiment than a building I’ve known for so long?