The Ranelagh Rat.
With my Hyooge backlog of unprocessed film rolls now down to its last 15 or so, i got the pics from London and Bristol taken in July last year back.
I did the Westbourne with Dsankt and Quantum X. While we were splodging thru the main Ranelagh Sewer tunnel, a swaithe of terrified rats scurrying up the tunnel ahead of us, we saw that one little rodent was staying put, the flow of waste swirling around and past it. Ive kept two rats in the past and having seen them before they died i was pretty sure this old bugger was on its way out. I gently tried to shift it out of the shitflow, but it was staying put. So i took its photo, sure not the most courteous thing to take a dieing beings photo, but it would be the little blighters first and last and a testement to its existance down below the city, surrounded by 100 million of Bazelgettes bricks, a soundtrack of emptying side pipes, swirling flow and cars thumping manhole covers, in near entire darkness save the light coming down the vent shafts and the banefully bright lights of these noisy human intruders.
Heres the Rat's photo. I once met a fellow who believed that you lost a bit of your soul everytime you had your photograph taken. Id say its more like you gift others with a peice of your soul everytime your photo is taken, and im glad to have a bit of this little fellas soul.
In tribute, to this rat and all the other rats who live and die beneath London, in whose home we are privelidged to tresspass.
Salute.
I did the Westbourne with Dsankt and Quantum X. While we were splodging thru the main Ranelagh Sewer tunnel, a swaithe of terrified rats scurrying up the tunnel ahead of us, we saw that one little rodent was staying put, the flow of waste swirling around and past it. Ive kept two rats in the past and having seen them before they died i was pretty sure this old bugger was on its way out. I gently tried to shift it out of the shitflow, but it was staying put. So i took its photo, sure not the most courteous thing to take a dieing beings photo, but it would be the little blighters first and last and a testement to its existance down below the city, surrounded by 100 million of Bazelgettes bricks, a soundtrack of emptying side pipes, swirling flow and cars thumping manhole covers, in near entire darkness save the light coming down the vent shafts and the banefully bright lights of these noisy human intruders.
Heres the Rat's photo. I once met a fellow who believed that you lost a bit of your soul everytime you had your photograph taken. Id say its more like you gift others with a peice of your soul everytime your photo is taken, and im glad to have a bit of this little fellas soul.
In tribute, to this rat and all the other rats who live and die beneath London, in whose home we are privelidged to tresspass.
Salute.