Old buffers and old buffers

Yesterday, the vanguard of this eclectic shutter of photographers met in a cottage surrounded by armed men with dogs whilst we stuffed envelopes full of Contemporary Photography into many hundreds of envelopes. Such is the secrecy surrounding the workflow to get these august tomes out to paying members not!

No, indeed we were surrounded like the OK Corral by men and guns blasting birds out of the sky that had been grown specifically for the privileged few. Although I had my gear with me that would have enabled me to make some interesting images of this rural industry I knuckled down instead to the task of getting these envelopes stuffed.

It was the usual culprits, escapees from ‘Last of the Summer Wine’ plus the master of automotive photography – Chris Myhill – very much younger than us but very adept at sliding in these booklets. It must have been the years of sliding in 10×8 film into double dark slides. You never know when skills can be re-used.

It was good to Chris along apart from speeding up the process, we were able to talk through our group and individual projects and potential exhibitions in the early Summer/late Spring of 2018. Having professional photographers in this group brings a whole lifetime of experience to bear.

As with the television series the conversation rambled around all sorts of topics from Melania reminding me of Lady Penelope and musing on where Ralph got his ideas from to whether the outfit was made of neoprene or indeed Kevlar to old buffers in railway stations and rusting Capris.

Railway buffers with watering cans

 

There is no holding us back when we get going. Great Granddad also gave us a lesson in the roots of certain common words. As an eclectic a conversation that anyone could wish for to while away a bitterly cold morning. There was plenty of wildlife on view also, with Muntjac, hares and strutting pheasants trotting their way in the opposite direction to the stands.

When I got in, I uploaded my iPhone edit of my old buffers.

Old buffers by Tom Owens