Textures

I had a lot of fun taking photos this winter. The light was a bit more whitey-grey and a bit less copper-gong-nailed-to-the-heavens than it is the rest of the year.

This is important because, when it comes to photos, I am a surly Celt to my core. Give me all that bleak, glorious northern-ness, ceilinged by grey cloud - at once desolate and uplifting, and too sparse to do anything but speak of heaven. It soaks into the grain of everything you see, and it is almost a crime not to take a picture of the warp and weft of its shadows.

Bangladesh doesn't really do this sort of thing much of the time; it's much more colourful, and often overwhelmingly bright. It's beautiful, but you see it through squinted eyes. Winter light makes it less of an effort for me to recognise the beauty that's in this environment all the time. This, in turn, inspires my inner photographer to take terribly arty and totally purposeless photos like these.