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This is a tribute to English football players in the years '50 - '70, when this sport was still not been ravaged by billionaire sponsorship (there weren't advertising on the players shirts) and astonishing salaries. Even teams of small towns like Wolves, Blackpool and Derby County could have the opportunity to win cups and championships. The title of this album is inspired by the book "Those Feet: A Sensual History of English Football" by David Winner. For this album I selected old videos from internet (preferring those with altered colors and very low resolution). These photos were taken on my personal computer monitor using an expired film.
Photographed by Chris Sikich
Some photos and a review were published by Philadelphia Magazine here: www.phillymag.com/ticket/2016/03/21/concert-review-those-...
#ds42 make a photograph of a close friend or family member today and share it.
wish the restaurant lighting had been better as she has the most memorizing eyes.
Those of you who follow my photostream regularly will know what a lover of shooting direct in to the light I am...
This is just one of hopefully a new series I'd like to do with gritty, raw, and slightly haunting portraits of people that seem to be peering into the viewer's soul.
Those bastards. The lot of them. Here's another carcass that I found scattered about. More chunks of fur pulled out and a very nasty pelvis.
Those white patches are daisies. The grass hasn't been cut. The house has been unoccupied for some time. It sits on a knob overlooking large and low meadows stretching toward Highway 101 on a berm between them and the Pacific. Cattle still browse in the meadows, ownership and/or use separated from the house which also used to dominate "downtown" Ophir--the Post Office used to be across the road, and a bit further north the Ophir School, no longer used as a school. South of the house [behind the viewer] was a big barn since disassembled, but a couple of smaller cattle processing buildings remain with corrals and a "press".
... and I keep my ears open for those elusive sounds, soft and brittle like the rustling moments of conversations between those absolute curtains and an inquisitive sun ...
Those were rounds from a Colt 45, note the nice grouping in the kill zone and the cute bullethole kind of cuddled in under the X.
Another shot of my serious son Jaz riding in his Radio Flyer wagon! Really, he's thrilled on the inside! ;)