Category Archives: Family, friends and portraits

MoonWalk 2017: I wore my bra with pride…

Breast Cancer, it’s horrible, so how could I refuse to do my bit, get my moobs, along with my spare socks, stuffed into a bra , and walk a marathon overnight to raise some dosh for charity? Plus Mrs P has already done 3 (marathons that is, including a running one – she’s a toughie…). Time to man up, stick my chest out and get marching…

I’m not quite sure what black fur bras indicates about my predilections for sexy lingerie, and damned itchy it was too. How do the girls do it every day…? But here we are at the beginning, full of positive energy and slight nerves, given that I had done no training whatsoever apart from walking the dog…

15,000 women on the night (plus some men – not many, but a few plucky ones) Many, many, many bras on show and all of them decorated but functional. That’s a lady queue below – you know what for – one of the distinct advantages I had on the night being a bloke…

 

And we’re off! Decent pace and no rain. All smiles and chatter for the first few miles… (girls gossiping whilst walking, it comes naturally). Lovely support from good friends – Great to see you Sus and Jenny, “wooohoo!” (that was the tone of the evening…)!!! And we are still going strong by mile 10.

 

By mile 16 blisters are arriving, chit chat has faded, and trudge-drudgery has set in. Thank heavens for hot chocolate at Sloane Square plus a few swigs from my hip flask. The restorative powers of Brandy mixed with Grand Marnier are remarkable…

OK, I look a bit knackered at mile 25. But full of joy at mile 26! The end in sight, and an overwhelming feeling of relief… that I could get that damned itchy bra off at last!

So that was my first marathon: 8 hours of blister inducing walking, trussed up in a bra, surrounded by gaggles of women who didn’t stop chattering until the dawn chorus took over. Not bad for a Saturday night!

(I would like to say a huge thank you to everyone who sponsored Mrs P and me. Your generosity helped push us over the line. If you read this and you would like to contribute – we all know someone who’s suffered from this cancer – then don’t hesitate to click on the link and do your bit. Thank you!)


Dog walking with Rufus…

Rufus has been with us almost a year. Difficult to imagine the home without him now. He’s been the best in what has been a tough year…

img_5810

He is either a very intelligent dog, who decides to ignore the pathetic goings-on of the humans around him, or else he is very thick and simply doesn’t understand our commands. Either way, he is clearly very happy.

Processed with Snapseed.

Early morning walks are good – for me as well as the dog! And we’ve been treated to some superb sunrises over the past few days. Here’s my local Caspar David Friedrich tree, just next to the Lizzie Bennet lane…

Processed with Snapseed.

Rufus is very bound-y, just like Tigger, and chasing a ball is absolutely what Rufus does best. Or licking the dishes in the dishwasher – perhaps that is what he does best; or maybe the challenge of a big stick on an early morning walk? No…, I have it, best of all is the chance to go for a swim in water, the smellier the better.

img_5808

Processed with Snapseed.

(I do like that tree – very CDF for sure.)

So long may our dog-master, master-dog morning walks continue. Great fun for us both, and a chance to go hunting for sticks…

Processed with Snapseed.

 

 

 


A beach, a dog, and a race…

Autumn is here, my favourite season! The colours are muted but saturated, the weather still not too cold. Mists and mellow fruitfulness and all that. A good time to get out with the camera. This last week the Isle of Wight has been positively glowing and I’ve been having some fun with my tripod plus tilt and shift lens…

needles3

 

Dusk isn’t too late, so I can photograph The Needles and don’t miss out on dinner with the family, and dawn isn’t too early, so it’s not too hard to haul my botski out of bed and shoot the misty sunrise.
pano1

 

But what about the beach, the dog and the race…? Well, when the kids were young beaches were for sandcastles and paddling, but now we have a dog a beach is of course for races! Below is Charles puffing away whilst Rufus ambles past him. Rufus wins easily. And then me! a sprightly 42, giving the hound a run for his money. (Rufus still won…)

charles-rufus2

rufus

rufus-and-me

 

Ah, the inner child will out…

Dawn, dusk, beaches, racing. A cracking week on the Isle of Wight. Loved it.

sunrise1

 

needles2


Faces of the future

I did a shoot at a theatre company the other day. I loved the eagerness of the actors – the faces of the future. Here they are, blimey they look so young!

Small-12bw

 

Small-4

Small-18

Small-2

Small-16

Small-14

Small-7


Michelle, grace and elegance

If Ruben soars, then Michelle glides, graceful and elegant. The arch of the foot, the point of the hand. Arabesque, Plié, Pirouette…

Michelle3

 

Michelle

 

Michelle5

 

 

There’s time for fun, a little – it can’t be all too serious.


Michelle2

 

Perfection must be to the fingertips, to the toes. A body under control.

Michelle6

 

Michelle4

 

Ruben and Michelle make dance look effortless, controlled and beautiful. They look serene, together.

 

Michelle10

 

Michelle11

 

For pictures of Ruben, see previous post.


Ruben dancing into the air

Now I know that I have published the odd post featuring the female form. Beautiful it is too, and I’ve loved every moment of every photo shoot. But maybe it’s time to even up the score… So here are some images of the male form, and in spectacular condition too. This is Ruben, a man who can soar, seemingly effortlessly, through the air.

Ruben 4

 

How many hours of practice does it take to be able to do this? They say 10,000 to master an instrument. This is a life’s dedication. So it’s great to record the beauty of Ruben’s skill.

 

Dancer

 

 

Ruben 3

 

Ruben 2

Unsurprisingly, the feet take some wear and tear. But a short rest and then Ruben is ready to fly again. Up, up and away. Amazing….

Ruben 5

 


My dog will never win Crufts!

I realised today that my dog is never going to win Crufts….., ever. But surely he would get a rosette at the local May Fair dog competition? This is a dog that makes a 10 min walk down the high street last an hour. He gets a lot of attention. He most definitely attracts the kids, and also the ladies (good doggie…). But put him in front of a judge – a dog judge – and his wilful side takes over.  Here he is in today’s ‘dog/owner lookalike’ competition. He is not cooperating…

Rufus7

 

The next event was ‘dog with the waggiest tail’. At home, his wags so much he smashed 3 wine glasses already. Would he wag for the judge? No. Ramrod straight. Then it was ‘dog with the cutest eyes’. He turned his back on the judge and wouldn’t look at him AT ALL…!

Rufus6

Finally it was ‘dog the judges would most like to take home with them’. I was sure this was his moment. I mean, who wouldn’t?! I’m scared of leaving him for 10 seconds outside Tesco in case someone nicks him. Did the judges want to take him home? No way, not after he rolled over in the dirt, snuffled the other dogs’ behinds and tore around the hay bale staging like a demented mutt! I’d just brushed his coat beforehand so that he looked glossy… He wasn’t even shortlisted!!!

Rufus5

 

Rufus4

Clearly Rufus Peck is a non-conformist dog. Frankly I think he disgraced the family today by not playing ball… I may forgive him sometime in the future. In the meantime, he remains very much his own dog…:

 

Rufus3


2 speedlights, background, and a model…

Amazing what you can do with a couple of speedlights. Basic kit – 2 small flashes, 2 strip boxes, a background – and a model of course! and hey, it’s up and running…

Helena3

 

These are from a workshop I did the other day with Luca Monti – check out his workshops here. Going on a workshop is a great way of stepping out of the comfort zone and doing something different. Just do it, and have some fun.

Helena2

 

Helena4

 

The next image is one I put into a competition. The judge slated it – too much negative space, according to him. I don’t agree. I rather like the curves and the space. They balance off one another. Let me know what you think!

 

Helena


Rufus is here!

A while ago I mentioned I was under some pressure, from the kids – and Mrs P…, to get a dawg. Indeed we had walked around the Lake District marking dogs out of 10 to decide which ones we liked best.  And like the mutt I am, I succumbed. And lo! here he is. Rufus. The fifth Peck. And already, 3 weeks in, I can’t imagine life without him.Rufus1

 

OK. I promise not to become a dog bore. Even worse than a baby bore… But blimey he is cute (of course) intelligent (of course), full of character (of course). Mmmm, I suspect I am not the first to think this of their dog… Mind you he is a bit dopey too – never seen anyone or anything eat so many twigs and sticks as he does. Completely bonkers! I shall let the pix do the talking….

 

 


FullSizeRender 7

 

FullSizeRender

 

FullSizeRender 6

 

FullSizeRender 2

Tomorrow a new life stage! Walkies!! How exciting!!! Rufus and I will soon be going on photographic trips together. I can’t wait, and neither can he (although maybe that’s me projecting…)

FullSizeRender 8

 


Is it ok to remove the tour kitty from a corpse….?

So, here’s last week’s skiing dilemma: all 8 lads have just put €50 in the kitty. 400 smackers – clearly enough for quite a few beers. And then kitty carrier goes arse over tit and because he’s only got one plank welded to his leg, shatters his shin bone and has to be blood wagoned down the slope. Of course, the 7 still standing are intensely sorry for our Kumpel, but hells bells, what do we do about the kitty!?!?

 

plane view

 

Morning view

 

Having said that, a boys trip is actually an object lesson in reconnecting with humanity. This may surprise our wives…., but we are able to discuss the finer aspects of life. Of course, not wishing to stretch credulity, obviously we do all the usual boy things – lots of farting, burping, gross humour, discussion of the merits of tits vs arse etc etc. But these are not the only topics of discussion. For example, in one evening we covered all the following topics: How long has your longest friend been you friend? The meaning of religion. Why do we pay tax? The respective merits of tea vs booze. How should we all contribute to society? The benefits of 3 in a bed. Politics – in general. How best to stack a dishwasher (good debate on that one!) How much we love our kids. James Bond (was The Living Daylights R Moore or T Dalton?) How long should you boil an egg at altitude to get a perfect softy? (Answer 6.5 mins in Sölden…) What exactly are parental responsibilities? How safe is the cut? And how long does it take to clean out the tubes before the risk of impregnation has passed? ALL ON ONE EVENING!

 

bridge view

 

hyt view

 

Attachment-1 2

 

I hesitate to enumerate the list of other topics discussed on other evenings. Frankly Rousseau and Voltaire would have been hard pressed to keep up. And I haven’t even mentioned the skiing, yet.

Attachment-1

 

FullSizeRender

 

Even our cooking wasn’t bad, although heaven knows what happened to this spaghetti…, swiftly followed by an argument over dishwasher stacking (f.f’s sake!)

spaghetti

 

Dish washer

 

 

dishwasher 2

 

Boys do not do things by halves. If we go to the supermarket then we damn well shop – and need at least 2 trolleys to get the beer back home (thank God the team had learnt to avoid Alkohol-frei this time!)

Shopping

Gilrs

 

Oooops, not quite sure how the last evening’s entertainment crept in there… passing swiftly on (!) we come back to the initial dilemma. What to do about that €400? The cash needs to be weighed up against the seriousness of the injury. Take a look at the poor chap’s shin bone:

 

Broken leg

 

leg in pins

 

Well, being the decent chaps we are of course we chased after the blood wagon! So that’s another boys trip over for another year. Can’t wait for the next one.

 

Solden view

 

(Now boys – if you haven’t seen the video, then let me know and I’ll wetransfer it to you. It’s fun. And ask yourselves this: What does Granny really want?) Tschüß, bis zum nächsten Jahr!