I don't believe in God.

But I can see beauty in religion.

Trouville; Lisieux (une tour féminin, une tour masculin, with the red white and blue of the revolution still just visible above the door); scaffolding on the inside of the Basilique Saint-Therese; and how it looks from the outside.

A souvenir shop down the road; Falaise; Jesus for 23 euros; postcards.

Le chat.

I'm still editing (I've hardly had time to start), but here's another little bit of video. Il s’appelle Rooky, et il aime tout le monde. He likes sitting on the radiator, by the radiator and by the sink. Just look at those whiskers.

The Geometry of a Ferry.

Possibly the most boring title ever, but it caught my eye.(How could it not.)

Bonjour/Au Revoir

This is just the start.

I'm off to France shortly. I'll leave you with this.

Back Soon.

It's not all grey up North.

These are the last of my photos from Accrington. We had a couple of hours wandering round, and though it's nowhere near as polished as other market towns, there is a certain charm to the Victorian arcade and an old factory building where the windows have fallen inwards. There seems to be a history behind it - real or imagined.

As someone from Nottingham, which is right on the North/South divide, the stereotypically Northern features - particularly some boarded up back to back houses, and the little tea shops - made me wonder how much the divide actually exists. Whether we noticed the differences more because of the taxi driver's self parody on the journey in, or the pre-conceived image of a mill town from Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit, is hard to say.

I probably look up too much.

Sickly sweet.

Woodthorpe Park

This is such a familiar place to me, but it's still refreshing to walk through the trees and across the grass instead of endless pavement. The pigeons, in the corner of the second picture, looked like they'd been there forever. 

"Do you think we spoilt the Valentine's Ball?"

(That last one in a sort of semi-homage to Vampire Weekend.)

Fading Light

In Accrington, Lancashire. It's sort of beautiful in its own way.

The first picture remind me of this - it's a very obvious link in terms of colour, but there's something of the same sentiment too, a slightly defiant loneliness.

A Grim Tale.

A kind of 'trailer' for a school drama production of Grimm's Tales, on next week.

The song is the very beginning of Tom Waits' Russian Dance.

This is the last time I'm using Windows Movie Maker, I promise.

 It's so easy to use, but I'm going to see error messages in my sleep.

P.S. I also apologise for the low image quality, my camera isn't exactly professional and some of the resolution seems to be lost in the upload.

Definitely almost spring-like.

Sunday evening.