to move up and down
Jack Stanistreet Photography
Jack is a budding and talented[citation needed] photographer from Sheffield, UK.
Caliban - Jack Stanistreet
Just an idea for a song :)
So I turned 18 today. To celebrate, I went to the pub after college for my first (legal) pint followed by a McDonald’s; by far the classiest 18th birthday celebrations. But best of all, my prints from Chris Villacillo came today (who unfortunately has recently left tumblr) and I shall be getting them framed as part of my birthday present. So thank you Chris, and thank you all my friends! Woo!
La Carnevale by Jack Stanistreet
The sun retreated from the Venetian skies as a soft glow filled the streets; an eternal twilight, marking the end of a day that has not yet surrendered to the night. The shadows of the dancers seemed to dwarf their casters, their bodies twisting like the flickering flames that illuminated la plaza. “Veloce!” shouted the crowd, the musicians struggling to keep up to the demands of the drunken mass, occasionally playing dissonant notes at which the intoxicated laughed. A sea of masks, celebrating La Carnevale, signified that the grand masquerade had begun.
Amongst the mass of reds and yellows, a single skull stood out. Plain and pure, silent, still, a predator waiting to pounce.
“Wait!” Raphael exclaimed, running after his fiancé. He lifted his mask as his heart sank; his comment about her mother needing two chairs at the wedding had not been well received. She was lost to the crowd, his chase now futile. Slumping to the ground, he sighed and placed his head in his hands. “Idiota!” he muttered to himself, wishing he could take back his words. Raphael raised his head to see a dark figure standing above him, watching the people dance. A skull? The figure moved forward with the resolution of a rook, yet the subtlety of a knight. And with that, he was gone.
The pounce. Checkmate. The knife slid between the girl’s ribs like a bow along strings. Composed. Graceful. The knife withdrawn, the girl bent forward, blood dripping from her mouth like petals plucked from a rose. The killer was forgotten in the crowd, a flurry of screams and confusion allowing his escape. Upon hearing the shouts of “murder! murder!”, Raphael jumped to his feet and rushed forward. It couldn’t be Arianna, it couldn’t…
The girl was slumped forward on the floor, a shallow pool of dark red slowly seeping from under her yellow dress. What colour had Arianna been wearing? Raphael spent no time deliberating as he pushed his way through the crowd and over to the dead body. He slowly lifted the girl onto her front, removing her mask to find an unfamiliar face. Raphael forewent a sigh of relief as he realised he was staring into blank, dead eyes. He was paralysed by the emptiness of them, the void of emotion; the lack of any kind of recognition… “Do… did you know her?” asked one. Raphael was unable to answer, but lay the girl down and stood up slowly. He scoured the crowd, looking for his fiancé. “Arianna?!” he shouted. The silence shook his soul.
In the depths below Castello Donato, the flames struggled against the shadows, the darkness vibrant and violent. The Marchese removed his mask, placing it with the blood-stained knife on the altar. He had her. He had his new Amelia. His new wife, who would bare him an heir. Arianna lay unconscious, innocent and ignorant, her eyes closed to the foreboding hint of a smile on Ignazio’s lips.
About to write 500 words of a Gothic tale…
Better get my THINKING CAPE on! mwhaHAHAHAHAHA!
(See what I did there? Anyone? No….?)
A Certain Madness - Jack Stanistreet
A piano piece I wrote a while back, recorded on a rainy day. Let me know what you think :)
Landscape
Music Reflects The Soul
Going through some of my old photographs. Love to your mothers.
Inspirations No. 3 - Nick Sitton
The first I saw of Nick’s work was his Twisted series. What fascinates me about Mr Sitton is his ability to turn his hand to various different styles of photography and consistently produce great photographs, a trait I very much aspire to. Follow him on tumblr here, for his work is always refreshing and there is never a dull moment. Below are a few questions I asked him about his inspirations and how he started out.
Who are some of the photographers that inspired you at an early stage in your work?
I’ve always been inspired by Jerry Uelsmann, he was my first favorite. Sally Mann, Richard Avedon, and Nick Knight are other favorites of mine. I’m not sure if this counts but the reason I got into photography was because of my lovely friend Anneliese (www.flickr.com/photos/anneliesenoelle/) and her masterful use of film.
What was your first camera?
My first camera was a cute little Polaroid iZone which I took to Europe with me in third grade. My first camera that I actually put to artful use is my Canon Rebel 2000 that my sister gave to me before I started my first darkroom class.
Do you have a favourite quote about photography or art in general?
I don’t have a specific quote but I’ve learned along the way that all art comes from love, whether it be the presence of love, the need for love or the lack of love.
What advice would you give to yourself when you first started out?
I think I actually did really well starting out but I would tell my past self who deleted my Flickr about a year ago that you’re a dumb ass and it’s not worth it, don’t do it! Hahaha
O Green World No.2
