The city of Phitsanulok, (Pits-NOH-loh) in central Thailand is a workaday, very “normal” city, a capital of sorts long ago, now known for some famous Buddhas (where isn’t?) and a University.
I spent time at the excellent hospitals in the city and also, frankly, because its not on the tourist circuit of party beach towns and ex-pat enclaves. I can be comfortably and obviously anonymous – Its just normal.
I travel there by train and sometimes leave by plane from the smallish airpot (where i Boeing 747 sits in disassembly on the tarmac. I usually stay for week or three at a time, undergoing medical tests, as well as receiving traditional Thai “royal court” massage and other natural treatments.
I wander through the markets (usually buy seasonal fruit), stay at the same guest house, and eat at a family-run noodle stand or the outdoor hot-pot restaurant across the street from the aforementioned Hip Inn.
What follows are unedited snaps taken by a Lomo La Sardina (sardine can) camera loaded with expired film. I take photos “from the hip” to capture the hazy, vaguely watercoloured impression i feel there when wandering the lanes, streets and markets. This is all.
When i visit Thailand, i fly into Chiang Mai – a bustling olden city in the north area, rather than Bangkok which is just too much city for countryboy me. Then i head for the city of Phitsanulok, (Pits-NOH-loh) in central Thailand which is a workaday, very “normal” city for medical treatment (Phitsanulok life is detailed elsewhere in a similar fashion.
I travel by train – either a 1960s era Japanese model or a new Chinese-built machine with folding beds for the nighttime journey. Along the way, i write poetry and gaze out the window (poetry series Towns and Trains is – or might be – elsewhere in this archive).
What follows are snaps taken by a Lomo La Sardina (sardine can) camera loaded with expired film snapped from a moving train for no particular reason aside to see what happens and capture the washes of colour fleeting by as i roll, as well as a few folks i encountered along the way and a few places i slept or soaked.
This Underwood Universal was a gift to me when i was about 19 in 1989 living in my VW camper bus. Already well-used, this is/was the typewriter which guided me to love the analog touch and immediacy of a solid metal machine. And its made in Canada like me.
What follows are a few annotation about this machine and the creative works produced with its lovely keys.
While i had always had typewriters around (like me, my Mom and Grandpa were always making newsletters and other projects), they were usually the new electronic models of the day with “ball” type interfaces or the “wheel” kind. Of course, both required electricity which wasn’t an option for me in the van (most of the time anyhow). As such, me and this charming machine spent hours alone as i banged out postcards, missives and manifestos. No evidence handy from that era.
Whilst in Utah in autumn of 2016, I took a trip with my pals Marty the potter and Rod Ash (RIP), and his son and nephew, to beloved Diamond Fork hot springs (6th water, Spanish Fork canyon area). Indeed a special place to me. I hadn’t visited in many years and since then, the umm… cultural traditions had changed somewhat (nekkiedness not as prevalent or accepted, nevertheless…).
Anyhow, along the journey (beginning at Marty’s place in Provo) I snapped these pics with a Lomo La Sardina (Sardine can) camera loaded with expired film.
A few days later, I made my way to Las Vegas to visit brother Anders and stay at the classic El Cortez hotel in Fremont area of town (off-strip). A few snaps ensued as evidenced below (unedited):
Driving across the United States mid-west region (Iowa and Nebraska, July 2015) I snapped photos with Lomo La Sardina (Sardine Can) camera loaded with expired 35mm film, directly out the moving vehicle window each :15 minutes for a full roll. The results are here, unedited, glitches and all – order is unintentionally scrambled but that’s not really the point.
Assorted snaps of scrapbook(s) after assembly completed. Some showing detail of various components including bindings, blocks, covers (often made form calendar paper or printed paintings), or back covers (often made from board games).
Snaps of scrapbooks in midst of assembly – both in creation of the actual scrapbook (which creates a lovely substate, as-it-were), the scraps readied to go within to make the scrapbooks into a scrapjournals,… plus kit(s) of tools on the ready, and the workspaces used to do both building and filling, are documented – for no distinct reason than enjoyment of the process.
Telegrams re-mixed for a un-modern, post-forgotten age. Water coloured with paints from a dollar store > cryptic messages scribbled fountain pen > inky stamps applied appropriately > chopped with tiny scissors > glued > addressed > mailed to magic makers worldwide > digitized for your possible convenience, enjoyment and/or pleasure.
Various handmade “pictograms” from from watercolour notebook paper and various foreign postage stamps and inky stamps – mostly made in Newfoundland and Labrador, though some in Nova Scotia whilst i was rambling Maritime Canada seeking a home (which i did not find).