Alex Worsley

So here i am, back the other side. Back home. A place to regroup, re-asses the situation and ultimately have a long god damned break.
As always, I’m poor. Well that is untill the rat bastards over at SLS pay me for my services at Glastonbury festival. I don’t even feel like talking about the work as it brings back the nightmarish feelings of being stuck in some 30 foot insomnia tower.
That being said, when i wasn’t working i had an absolute blast.
Now, when the word ‘festival’ is placed over the top of a few days, it no longer becomes a “week” (or in this case 5 days). It is morphed into some kind of weird, over-stretched dream. Every man, woman and child is some kind of deranged caricature, fit only to be seen by the drug addled and insane. Tents are no longer a few cuts of canvas you air out in your back yard on a sunny Tuesday afternoon. Oh-no Ringo. These are the inner workings of a god-like architect who builds his skyscrapers and stadiums from the masts and sails of a ship, not out of place in Jason and the argonauts.
Not a place to get the fear.
I imagine, next week will follow the same sort of pattern as Glastonbury did. I’ll be taking myself and my partners in crime away from the North end, down to sunny Newquay. I can already see the pattern that will arise, it’ll involve becoming nocturnal and having a body of steel. In any case, as long as i have my musketeers at my side it’ll be a great trip.
Oh yeah, the photography part…..

As you can see, I’ve been quite active lately in my gallery.

Ah screw it, im not in much of a writing mood.

This is all for now.

A.J.W