Blink and you’ll miss it

Iceland.

Never has the essence of a country so closely resembled the way in which I see the world.

Never has a world been so surreally beautiful, unexpectedly shimmering with promises both freely given and expertly hidden.

Never have my experiences in a country been so appropriate to the ethos of photography itself, where images are missed or created in the blink of an eye.

And no, never ever have I been driving through a seemingly endless, flat black landscape so out of this world, so lunar with nothing to be seen as far as the eye can see…until you blink.

Just once, one split second blink and snap, there’s a moss covered, vivid green two metre tall boulder floating past you. No approach, no appearing over the horizon, no warning.

Just one blink.

The world has changed – it is green, it is soft, it is round, it is tall. It is no longer flat, no longer black, no longer empty.

Blink.

Gone.

The world is flat, black, lava and the road is long straight and endless. Once again.

Blink.

Still flat, still black.

Iceland.

How many other unrelated, unexpected worlds have come and gone unnoticed, between the blinks? What works of art have been missed? What alternate universes have slipped, there and back, through the fabric of time and space, in the blink of an eye?

Iceland.

Where memories live on and grow with a joyful, fearless poetic license, long after you have left.

Latest

Swarm

It was as simple as ‘get to the top of Finland and turn left’.  At least that is

Blink and you’ll miss it

Iceland. Never has the essence of a country so closely resembled the way in which I see the

Under the Stars in Madagascar

There are times when writing about memories from as far back as my eighteenth year feels wrong. How

Viewpoints

The Rooftop Collective exhibition edition VI Tempus Fugit. So they say. Here we are again, another Rooftop Collective

Memories

Portuguese lakes at sunrise

I am now long overdue a film developing session followed by some printing. And I cannot wait. Apart

Speedometers and Bikes

When cycling around Eastern Europe it was very low-tech for Morgan and I. Our decision was spur of

The shitting fields

India 21-04-11: Driving towards Delhi from Mathura, early in the morning as the sun came up, mist rising,

Bridge over the River Yamuna

India 20-03-11: We crossed a bridge. It was a railway bridge, with a small walkway to the side

Randomly Selected

Skills, Smells and Spells: The Landscapes

Written by Jim Shannon for ‘West of the Sun’ and adapted for ‘Skills, Smells and Spells’: Great art

Barbara Wace: Family friend and inspiration

Travel writer, journalist and photographer: Barbara always looked old to me. She was old in my first memories

Don McCullin at The Arts Club

During a year when I have had several exhibitions, a front cover in a photography magazine, a documentary

Holi Hunters by Jim Shannon in Sidetracked

The latest edition of Sidetracked came out today and it features an article by Jim, reporting on our