Featuring some of my favourite artists
Proud of my boy and all the people who care about continued destruction of our last remaining precious wildlife areas. I intend to run as far as I can to help, and sign all of the petitions and letters to our elected representatives
This month, I’ve been having a competition with my best friend, just for fun, to see who could run the most miles in November. On Friday the 23rd I hit 100 miles. I’m no athlete, fitness enthusiast or healthy person in general. I just wanted to see how far I could push myself. For the next 30 days, me and Rhodri are going to try and run a combined 900+ miles, with help from as many people as we can get, to try and protect wildlife in Wales.
I was recently made aware of the Welsh Governments plans to build a new M4 relief road through the heart of the Gwent Levels. It’s pretty bad that this road is going to cost over £1.2b. It’s not great that it is going to destroy 5 sites of Special Scientific Interest or that it will destroy the…
View original post 608 more words
Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument on the US/Mexican border, a place of amazing desert plants, quiet solitude, beautiful sunshine and occasional, dramatic rain, but also where reminders of political tensions are never too far away. A strange and beguiling place that I like very much
On a recent road trip throughout the Sonoran Desert of Arizona and Southern California we paused in this stunning place to wait for sunset
Great short film
Grassholm is a small rocky outcrop, 13km off the coast of the Marloes peninsular. In the summer it is home to nearly 80,000 gannets. Dale sailing regularly do trips out to the island and during the trip you’re likely to see porpoise, dolphins, shearwaters, razorbills and puffins depending on the time of year. It is a fantastic sea safari and this summer I made a film of my most recent visit.
A Trip to Grassholm Island, Pembrokeshire, narrated from the book “Waterfalls of Stars” by Rosanne Alexander. This is a sequence taken from my most recent film on Skomer Island, Cynefin.
Ominous cloudscapes, mountain roads, music to rip your heart out.
Snow flurries warp past the windshield, motion-blur, a starfield simulation.
I’m triangulating off gross landscape features, echo-locating.
Assigning local meaning, at this manifestation of scale.
And you might make a thing holy. Index everything to a single colour frame –
To that obscurest of sorrows, the moment of tangency:
It’s seconds, minutes, decades away.
I didn’t blink, and I missed it anyway.
If a tree falls in the forest, it’s an arbitrary event.
Life’s hard-forks are just waypoints, too.
Successive phases of madness. It’s a single story.
No what-ifs, no parallels. And for a season, for no reason – a universe occurs.
Grains of its self-awareness circle the local star.
Eleven hundred miles a minute, artefacts everywhere, and I’m still hoping for an everything’s gonna be fine attack.
If it helps, this was never about you.
If it helps, consider the user…
View original post 66 more words
