Once, twice, three times... a genius

So sang Lionel Richie (also a genius) about ladies.…

RedBubble were nice enough to feature this piece of tripe below.

This makes it 3 features for me in the last week or so. I don’t really know where to go from here. If my genius becomes any more published I may have to start cutting ears off myself. And I only have two to start with. Also, the lack of ears is going to make wearing a beret more difficult which is essential for my new “artist” persona (see previous journal entries).

On a slightly more serious note, the image above is one of my personal favourites. The disused shop stands on the outskirts of Smithfield market – one of the few remaining true historic sites in London. The streets, buildings, and particularly pubs surrounding it are my favourite part of London. It’s a great pla

More genius recognition

The beret-wearing (see previous entry) has obviously paid off as another shot has been featured by RedBubble, who clearly have the sense to recognise greatness when they see it.

This further recoginition catapults me into a new dimension. From tomorrow I will wear an Andy Warhol wig, will start smoking a pipe and will speak in unfathomable non-sequiturs. My small study will henceforth be known as the Factory and I will start charging people to attend their parties. I will become, in no uncertain terms, an odious individual (at least more odious than I currently am, if that is possible).

My latest “oeuvre” (note: the unecessary use of French words and phrases will become de rigueur)

My genius....recognised

I was pleased to see that one of my shots (Blackfriars Underpass) was featured by RedBubble.

This provides welcome affirmation for my filthy photography habit. From this point on I intend to become an even more intolerable bore, pointing to this dubious achievement as the crowning glory of my new-found photographic genius. I’ve re-written my CV accordingly, have informed all former friends that they can no longer know me and have taken to wearing a beret, chain-smoking Gauloise and affecting a French accent – all part of what my idiotic mind tells me that all successful artists should do.

Next week I will disavow society, live in comparative seclusion (subject to me performing my normal everyday job) and grow a beard.

The artistic revolution has begun.

p.s. thanks to everyone who left ni

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