Constant Renewal

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Photography & Text by Derek Clark

Constant

ADJECTIVE

Occurring over a period of time.

Remaining the same over a period of time.

(of a person) Unchangingly faithful and dependable.

NOUN

A situation that does not change.

Glasgow, like most cities, is changing rapidly. But you may have noticed that the older something gets, the better the chance of survival. The Provan's Lordship is the oldest house in Glasgow. It's a stones-throw away from Glasgow Cathedral and was built by Bishop Andrew Muirhead for the chaplain of nearby St Nicholas Hospital in 1471. I was lucky to have the place to myself when I visited recently and I have to say that it was more than a little eerie. You can practically feel the history in each room as you make your way through the house.

Nearby graves at Glasgow Cathedral have alphabet gardens growing in the engravings of the tombstones. Nature takes back everything eventually and here the soil has blown into the channels, followed be seed. constant growth; Constant renewal. Nothing ever stands completely still.

A short walk towards the city centre reveals the latest area for architectural renewal. Glasgow College and the surrounding area has seen a massive change in the past few years with building after building being erected at great speed (at least for someone who lives outside the city). But if I had to put my money on which of these buildings would still be standing in 100 years, The old Provan's Lordship would win hands down.

An old London bus passes by the modern architecture, the rattle of the Diesel engine cutting through the quiet like a chainsaw. It heads toward the Provan's Lordship. A link between new and old.

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All Still

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By Patrick La Roque

January is usually a quiet time of year, but 2019 is different. My calendar is filled with judging, writing and shooting assignments, including a few days in Toronto at the end of the month for a rather important gig. Combined to holidays that were little more than a seven-days-a-week-xmas-playlist blur, the sense of renewal and opportunity for reflection are missing this time around.

I’m meditating again (or trying to...the brain is one crazy nervous beast) and over the past weeks I’ve searched, actively, for images that would bring me peace. Therapy through photography. It’s much too easy to get caught up in busyness otherwise—as Kevin and Dominique both expressed very well in their last essays.

So here’s some stillness...an illusion, while we gather our thoughts.

Fresh Eyes

Fresh Eyes

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the rising move towards instancy in everything we do. From Twitter to Netflix to reducing the thirst for knowledge to scanning the top line of a smartphone google search we live in a society where time and space is seldom afforded. We want instant access, instant gratification, instant response and decisions. But sometimes time is the essential ingredient in allowing us reflect on where we’ve been, what we’ve done and what was really important all along.

Join Our Club

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BY JONAS RASK

I’ve known these guys for a very long time now. I met all of them, except Kasper, back in 2002. The year I started medschool.
We had no idea what we had gotten ourselves into at the time. We thought this was just education. It turned out we were quite heavily underestimating the importance of what we had set out to do. We were on a path that would shape our future in a quite profound way.

Back then we cared less about the healthcare system setups, the union politics, the suicide rates, medical rarities and the Hippocratic oath. All we cared about was friendship…. and anatomy.

I flunked anatomy, big time.
I thought it would be like high school. I thought I could pass the tests by just acting interested and use my intelligence. But I found out the hard way, that being a medstudent required an insane amount of work and effort. Every day. Unfortunately the gang moved up a semester while I was stuck doing the anatomy thing all over again for another 6 months.
But luckily we kept hanging out despite.
Our bonds were strong.

Many things happen during the course of a 6 year stay in university. And after those 6 years, comes clinical internships. Then the clinical speciality education.
Spread across the country, we still managed to get ourselves (and our growing party of wives and children) together for special occasions. Not as often as before, but we believed in quality over quantity.

We now live within 45 min of each other (except for Tobias who moved out west and has to drive a little longer), and even to this day we still get together.

It’s our club of friendship.

I treasure it more than I could ever express.

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Renewal 2019

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The end of 2018 was full of reflection for me and now, as we head into 2019, I feel I’ve had a certain amount of clarity over the festive period.

I spent a lot of time before Christmas out and about on workshops, shopping and socialising and something hit me like a brick.

Consumerism. Over indulgence. Ego. The need for immediate satisfaction. The need for acceptance. Technology. Noise. Boredom. Constant movement. Lack of space.

Lack of empathy.

And I include myself within some of those parameters.

“Man is not, by nature, deserving of all that he wants. When we think that we are automatically entitled to something, that is when we start walking all over others to get it.” 
― Criss Jami

It’s an abundance of crisis. An ever essential need to get more “likes”, more stuff, better stuff, other stuff. Stuff. Just because it’s stuff. We must have….stuff.

On Christmas day, here in the UK, right after the kids watched a Christmas movie, the advert that came on straight after was for a loan company.

What kind of a message is that? What kind of empathy is there?

I feel like many of us are the people that never slows down.

Buy more stuff. Plug into more stuff. Eat more stuff. Never taking a break. Never slowing down.

For what?

There are a lot of messages in our daily existence. I love the artwork that Banksy puts out. His work has a deep sense of irony, humour but a very, very keen sense of observation of the world we live in.

Without sounding too much like Michael Jackson, for 2019, I’m looking at my children more.

I’m looking at the simple things. Things that make them laugh and smile, must, surely, be the things that can make us laugh and smile.

When I’m 95 I want to be walking down the road hand in hand with my wife - not thinking about “stuff” or worse, the time I wasted on “stuff”.

The most important stuff in life is not stuff. It’s life.

Well I think so, anyway.

Happy New Year, folks.

The Hidden Lane

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PHOTOGRAPHY AND TEXT BY DEREK CLARK

DECEMBER 20th, 2018

Back in March this year, I shot some pictures of The Hidden Lane. This post has been sitting as a draft since then as it didn’t tie in with whatever we were doing around that time on Kage. Although it’s a bit out of season, I thought it would be a good idea to put this out as my last Kage post of the year. Sort of clearing out the cupboard so to speak.

When I revisited this post I was struck by how bright and colourful it was. I’m not sure if it was denial or a sense of false hope, but it surprised me that 2017 was not all doom and gloom (even though most of it actually was).

MARCH 20th, 2017

Like the wardrobe leading to Narnia, a typical close on a Glasgow street leads to the Hidden Lane. To be honest, there is actually a sign telling passersby it's there (businesses gotta survive), but it's still a bit of a surprise when you go through the close and arrive inside the Lane.

Brightly coloured doors and even a large building painted in the brightest yellow paint let you know you have arrived somewhere a little different. Different for Glasgow at least as we're not known for bright colours on buildings (although some of the islands off the west coast do embrace that sort of thing). There is actually a slightly odd feeling of stepping into another country, no doubt helped by the sudden appearance of sunshine on the day I visited.

I stepped into the tea shop and ordered a cup of tea and a piece of walnut cake. Sipping my tea from an old China cup that reminds me of visiting my granny as a child, I chat with the waitress about the lane. She tells me that one of the offices belonged to an MP from the Green Party and another was used for restoring antique furniture. I ask if it's ok to take a few pictures inside the tea room and with permission, grab my X-Pro2 and X100F and shoot a few photographs. The waitress comments on my cameras and asks if they are old film cameras. I wish I had brought the Hasselblad as I had intended, but wanted to travel light as I would probably be doing a lot of walking today.

I step out of the tea room and into the cold air, I turn right and enter an alley with brightly coloured doors. The second door is open and I look inside to see a young woman restoring an antique bench. Stepping inside, and with her permission, I shoot a few pictures and chat to her while she works. The bench is around one hundred years old and when she has finished it will hopefully be in use for another hundred or so. Isn’t that what we all wish for? That our work will live on after we’ve gone?

Cruise Control

BY BERT STEPHANI

My headlights always seem to be switched on this time of year. Every morning my car greets me with the ping that warns me for slippery roads despite the new winter tires. I can see a roller coaster year in my rear view mirror and there is that nagging realization that only a fundamental change of course can avoid the view of yet another roller coaster year ahead.

For now I'm going to push the cruise control button, lean back and find joy in the few rays of sunlight that make it over the horizon and through the clouds. I have to have faith that at some point I'll be ready to exit the traffic flow and enjoy the change of speed, the sound of tires on rough tarmac and an unknown but clear view through the windshield. 

Entre deux rives

By Vincent Baldensperger

Entre deux rives, un passage, une petite dune au-dessus de l’eau que l’on parcours chaque matin, chaque jour, dans un sens ou dans l’autre sans s’y arrêter, jamais. Prendre ce temps de l’observation, se poser au sommet, c’est y découvrir au fur et à mesure des habitués, des surpris, des gênés, des heureux, des sérieux, des désolés, des fâchés, des gentils, des pas gentils, des souriants, des amusés, des farceurs, des timides, des pressés, des décidés, des nonchalants, des sans-soucis, des inquiets, des embarrassés, des enthousiasmés, des amoureux…

Home Thoughts From Abroad

Home Thoughts From Abroad

It’s funny sometimes, living in my third home country.

My first home was Canada; I grew up there, studied, worked in theatre, then took a ‘one year working holiday’ to come to Australia - which became a fifteen-year side trip to New Zealand. Six years ago today, I found myself back in Sydney, which has turned slowly into home, too.

Once in a while though, I’ll catch sight of something, or there’ll be a story on the news; and the feeling of those places will return…

Poker Night

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By Patrick La Roque

Inevitably, there’s playing—cards or water guns, a board game of some sort. This time tradition won the draw and out came the brushed metal suitcase. Serious stuff.

I stood on the sidelines, lurking—the eternal bystander. I watched as individuals fought for supremacy. One family, two nations.
If only the world were so simple.