Gone ..

 

 

 

 

 

This week I have been asked, once again, to supply a photograph for a funeral. A lovely friend from the village has died and, as I'd previously shot a portrait of her in my old studio, the family have come to me for a print. That's the third time it's happened in such a short space of time, and I'm sorry to be so maudlin but it makes me very sentimental sometimes to think of my photography as a record of the past. Of things gone, of people no longer here. It is literally the driving force behind the production of my two new portrait books .. Remember Me! 

 I feature here three young lads from my archive, all of whom left this life far too soon. May they rest in peace .. 

Rest in peace ..

 

 

 

 

 

I woke this morning to hear that Fleetwood Mac's Christine McVie had died. It's the third death I've heard about this week, and one of those I literally heard about as I walked into the crematorium for the funeral of a friend who died last week! And that on the day we went to pick up the ashes of our poor little Cocker Spaniel ..

So .. 

Fucking enjoy yourself. That's all I've got to say today. Make the most of it whilst you're here, and try to rise above the bitty shite that makes us humans. Not too eloquent, I grant you, but there you are. 

 Sermon over .. 

That's life ..

Don't worry, I'm not coming over all maudlin here, but I wanted to talk today about death! It was actually going to be the subject of yesterday's blog, after the sad demise of Rik Mayall but, ironically, it's become even more poignant now that I've left it one more day 'cos .. my Uncle died last night. That's him in the middle, with my Dad on the right. I just marked the 5th anniversary of Dad's death a couple of weeks ago, and I'm pretty sure the chap on the left's dead too. I know the lady at the back is 'cos that's my aunt!.. 

It's funny, looking at 100 year old photographs from the First World War and thinking .. gosh, they were real people, living their lives .. because that's just become the role of this photograph, with the passing of a mere 36 years. Real people, living their lives, having a night out at the infamous Talk of the North in Eccles, and shot by a pimply 18 year old who only wanted to be a photographer! A young lad just two years out of school and now two weeks away from the first ever school reunion he's ever been to. And that's where another poignant moment comes because, after a question was posted up onto Facebook, it's become apparent that, 38 years on from leaving school, quite a few of my old school chums have already 'bitten the dust'! Drugs, cancer, life's bad luck! What a shame.
The shout has gone out for any old prints of those poor unfortunates but, with so many of today's 'social' photographs being taken on a phone, how on earth will people today view their past life?.. 

RIP, boys ... 

©Martin O'Neill 2014