Love Thy Neighbour

“Once the realisation is accepted that even between the closest human beings infinite distances continue, a wonderful living side by side can grow, if they succeed in loving the distance between them which makes it possible for each to see the other whole against the sky.” ― Rilke Rainer Maria

The twenty-first century is socialising us to believe that we can exist happily on our own. As our dependence on technology reduces our reliance upon one another, this stress inducing alienation has encouraged a mental health crisis to creep into so many of our lives. Amidst the exorbitant cost of daily life there are so many people struggling in silence.

We are gradually losing the space, time and opportunities to talk, to share our woes, fears and tribulations. The communities that we used to live alongside, celebrate with and mourn with are drifting apart, separation brought upon us through generational changes in attitudes to work and education. 

When we are removed from each other the weight on each of us gets heavier, a problem shared is a problem halved, as the old saying goes and that takes vulnerability from both sides. 

There is a greater need for inquisitive lips that know the moment to ask the questions that no-one else wants to ask and listening ears that are ready to receive without judgement. 

We tell ourselves that we don’t have the resources and the time, but is it just that we don’t care enough? 

To begin with, can we set free our generosity of spirit? Simple acts of kindness, loving gestures, a compliment or a welcoming smile. Can we move beyond the transaction to get below the surface, let each other into our lives and support others as we in turn let ourselves be supported. 

My latest proejct, ‘Love Thy Neighbour’ is a simple way of acknowledging the things that bring us together. I spent a morning photographing strangers on the street of my home town, asking them to tell me about a time when someone showed them kindness. The answers were simple and beautiful. Some representing lifetimes of care, others momentary gestures. It visualises our inherent reliance upon one another and demonstrates that although it often feels like it, we are not alone.

See the project in full on my Instagram Highlights. 

Living Wholeheartedly

I came across a news story last week that really struck me. A 34 year old man from Liverpool, a researcher, had inherited £100,000. In his wisdom, he acknowledged to himself that he didn’t need the money, that what he was earning was already sufficient to live off and therefore he wanted to give the money away. He knew that others were in greater need of that resource than him, but rather than decide himself, he wanted to let his community decide who should receive it. So he sent out 600 letters to random addresses in his L8 postcode, 38 people responded, from which he picked 12 to take part in the decision making process. Over 4 meetings to discuss their options, (and overcoming the initial reaction from those involved who presumed it was some sort of scam), they decided to split the money between four charities within their own postcode, covering Toxteth and Dingle, who between them work with people of all ages who are vulnerable and have economic struggles. Amongst other things, they are helping feed children who would otherwise have gone without meals.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t think it would ever have crossed my mind to make the choices that David made, decisions which many of us would just consider foolish. Surely he’d want to build some greater financial security for himself and his family? Surely he’ll need that money later in life or want to pass it on to the next generation? It is such an incredibly counter cultural act, complete with the best of intentions, a selfless act that puts the needs of others before his own. 

His is an act of living wholeheartedly, meaning what he believes and acting upon those intentions, paying attention to the whole around him rather than presuming it revolves around himself. He hasn’t made excuses or convinced himself that he’d be better off keeping the money, he’s shared not only his wealth but himself, his ideas and altruistic heart in the hope that it will resonate and encourage others to think similarly. 

I’m not writing this to make anyone feel guilty or to preach at you, but it’s a story worth telling which invites us to ask how we steward what we have been given. David’s act of financial giving is a significant one which for many of us may not be an option, but the profound nature of his morals and intentions are something we can all try and carry through our words and actions.

David has set up a website called Wealth Shared to publish the results from the project and to encourage others in how to use their money wisely.

This article is taken from my February Mailout which also features some of my latest news and cultural highlights.

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Teaching & Workshops

Over the last few years I’ve been asked to run various photography workshops in many different contexts, with prison inmates, youth groups, on farms and most recently with John Hansard Gallery for a programme they run with The Prince’s Trust.

From today though I’m taking the step into higher education, teaching the BA photojournalism course in Bournemouth for a couple of days a week. I’m excited to get started and see what I can encourage the students to create.

It will also give me time to continue a few ongoing projects which I’m slowly chipping away at!

Boy Friends

There was a very interesting book released last year by Max Dickens titled 'Billy No-Mates, How I Realised Men Have a Friendship Problem'. After buying a ring to propose to his girlfriend, Max realises he has no idea who to ask to be his best man at the wedding. He soon realised he wasn't the only guy struggling with friendship and goes on a journey of research and conversations with all sorts of experts about friendship. The book is an exploration of what is wrong with male companionship in the modern age. I've only heard interviews with him, but his summation is simple, that men find it much easier to build relationships with each other when there is a regular activity which allows them to meet. It doesn't matter what that is, whether it's playing a team sport, choir practice, a walking group or drinks after work on a Friday, but it seems like unless it's built into a routine and focussed around an activity or hobby it isn't going to happen.

However if you don't have this in your life there is a key to unlock its absence, and it's you. If you want this in your life you have to either seek it out and take the plunge or be the one who organises it. Now perhaps you don't want to take on the burden of booking the 5-a-side pitch each week and facilitating the whatsapp group to get everyone along, but think about the multitude of benefits that your proactivity might afford not only you, but all of the others who want to join you, and I can assure you they will be very grateful for the reason to meet. 

More recently I have been reading 'Boy Friends' by Michael Pedersen, an exploration of friendship, grief and loss after the suicide of his very good friend Scott Hutchinson of the band Frightened Rabbit. Scott's death happened a week or so before my sister Jess passed away so it really wasn't something I had much capacity to engage with at the time, but as a huge fan of the band I'm very glad to have the chance to revisit Scott's life through his wonderful friendship with Michael. The book is a buoyant and eloquent read and although centred around absence, offers up a beautiful picture of male companionship and a proximity which I feel guys rarely afford themselves. 

It has me wondering what it is that holds us back from getting closer to one another. I think the stereotype of male-ness plays a significant role, the societal expectation to keep your head down, work hard and crack on with life, which feels not only out of date but wildly unhelpful in a time of a terrifyingly high amount of male suicides each year. I'm not here to provide answers but maybe we can all be a bit braver in asking each other how we're getting on, really, not just a quick hey before we start the sarcastic banter, but taking time to check in. Forget what anyone else might think, they're your friends and it's ok to show them you care even if it does feel a bit soppy. When did it ever hurt to have someone know that they feel loved and listened too?

If you feel like you're in the right place to hear the lyrics, then the song below, written by Scott many years before he took his own life feels like a manifestation of how things ended for him. Released on the incredible album 'The Midnight Organ Fight', there are two lines which twist the narrative towards hope, change and a decision we are all invited to take each day, to decide to have a positive future.

If you need to talk to someone, then the guys at the Campaign Against Living Miserably are there to help. 

This article is taken from my January Mailout which also features some of my latest news and cultural highlights.

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Creating for Yourself

The creative journey is always a meandering one, with occasional highlights of public recognition and potentially earning some money from the endeavours, but neither of these are the fuel with which we create, as those exterior fuels can run dry.

In his book 'The Creative Act', Rick Rubin talks about ignoring the audience, creating just for yourself. This can feel wildly indulgent, and often isn't a decision that your bank balance will thank you for, but in order to find your true voice it's important not to create based on the expectations of others. We all start by imitating our influences but as we grow it's important to tune into the elements of our work which excite us, not because someone else said so, or wants to pay for it, but because it rings true. 

That is the thread to pull, itch to scratch, idea to develop etc. etc. 

It might not get you worldly rewards, because our consumerist society doesn't always reward the things it cannot define, categorise or monetise easily. The route to what is deemed 'success' is tricky, can be convoluted (and eventually met with others who want a slice of the pie!). I have friends who have made amazing records which have never been released, written books that haven't been published or taken photographs which may never grace the walls of a gallery. I've made plenty of things over the years which either never made it out into the world or fell flat when they did, and you learn from those, but I had the luxury of time and resource to scratch those itches to see what might come of them, sometimes they connect and sometimes they don't. For all those 'failed' projects their time may yet come, but the endeavour of creating them is the reward. The collaboration, the craft, the distilling of inspiration through a voice you didn't previously have. 

Finally, I hope you all have an enriching and revitalising festive period, enjoying time with family, friends and some treats along the way. It can be very easy to become self-indulgent over the next few weeks, and without wanting to get preachy please know that there are those around you who may well find this time of year difficult. For many reasons, Christmas and the New Year puts added stress and pressure on areas of our lives which may have already been hard, so spare what you can for those around you, through your generosity of time, money, food, hospitality or simply being a friend to someone who needs someone to listen. Please don't underestimate what you can offer to those around you. 

This article is taken from my December Mailout which also features some of my latest news and cultural highlights.

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In Your Incompleteness is Your Authenticity

I recently heard Dr. Martin Shaw share this phrase on a podcast interview, and it was like breath flowing through me. In that moment it's what I needed to hear, so I wanted to share it with you in case it's what you need to hear today. 

We live in a society which seems to demand perfection. On a daily basis we are asked to perform to a standard which stretches and bends us to reach beyond our true selves. Although many of us live searching for what our true selves might be I would suggest that it probably isn't found in the pursuit of perfection. 

In a similar vein, it is so easy to fall into the trap of aspiration, to make huge relational sacrifices that affect those we share our lives with in order to achieve something, perhaps a creative or work goal, perhaps something more materialistic. How often do we get to the end of those journeys only to find that having achieved what we set out to achieve that life doesn't feel tangibly different at all.

I'm not suggesting that we all stop trying to achieve anything in life, but it's important to carry those pursuits in context of our wider selves and those around us, the people who see our incompleteness, who know what our authentic selves look like and love us for it without question. 

For me, it's a question of accepting my flaws whilst holding onto my values, which I hope will encourage me to be the most authentic version of myself that I can be.

Martin is a wonderful writer and storyteller, director of the Westcountry School of Myth and carries a faith filled wisdom which always seems to resonate and ignite something within me. Listen to the interview with Martin Shaw & Felix Marquad on The Sacred Podcast here. I believe the quote comes from his book 'Courting the Wild Twin', which you can find here.

This article is taken from my November Mailout which also features some of my latest news and cultural highlights.

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Uncle Graham, The Beekeeper - Audio Story

In the summer I went down to Cornwall to spend some time with my uncle, a former dairy farmer who now keeps bees. He showed me some of the hives and we sat down to talk about his experience of keeping bees and how it keeps him motivated and energised after his diagnosis for Parkinson’s.

Thanks to BBC Radio Solent and BBC Radio Cornwall for playing the piece, you can catch up on BBC Sounds

BBC Solent - 36mins (excerpts of story with interview)

BBC Cornwall - 18mins 45secs (story in full)

Polycopies - Paris

Polycopies - Paris - Dear Kairos, - Book Signing

I’ll be signing copies of my latest book ‘Dear Kairos,’ at Polycopies in Paris this Friday - 6pm at the Skinnerboox table.

It would be lovely to see you if you’re in town!

'Dear Kronos' - New Zine

I've just released a new zine titled Dear Kronos ... a compatriot to my book Dear Kairos, exploring the ancient greek notions of time.

http://simonbray.co.uk/bookshop

Limited to 50 copies.

Relying on Permanence

A few months ago I picked up a copy of Jonathan Michael Ray's book, UBI.UMBRA.CADIT recently published by Antler Press, down at the Tremenheere Sculpture Gardens in Penzance. Having never encountered his work before, it was a wonderful insight into his artistic practice, engaging sculpture, photography, found objects and the surrounding landscape. His engagement with religious iconography through rearranged stained glass windows and gold lettering carved into stone really reverberated with some of the themes that I've recently been exploring in my own work. 

Considerations such as religion can be extremely loaded for some, but thing aspect which I found most intriguing was his willingness to use these mediums for artistic expression. That's not to deny that any of the previous iterations of these objects (or those that inspired them) weren't artistic, yet they were crafted for a specific purpose, their intention was for something with a great longevity, a symbolism that can be affirmed or denied, but as an object, something that feels like it should be maintained, preserved and kept, forever. Windows open to black and white sea views, boulders are cracked open to reveal their inscribed poetic interior. Shelves are adorned with items that speak of the natural, sublime and spiritual, so many of which appear to be found or collected, yet so intentionally placed that you can't help but sense they were born to be together. 

The weight of these objects is what makes their permanence feel so at odds with their reinvented state. The physicality of the stone and spiritual meaning of the windows make us presume that they are untouchable, to remain in their given state forevermore. Jonathan's reworkings along this theme allow us to see the symbolism in a new light, they have been reframed, altered aesthetically, abstractions of a previous state (whether perceived or actual). It requires us to reassess the versions that we hold in our mind as something that may have been permanent.

Jonathan's work asks us what we perceive as permanent, what are the things that we are propped upon that will not remain?

We affirm ourselves with a sense of control, a misguided idea that once things are as we want them, they will remain like that. It is not wrong to consider what we are building, creating and offering to future generations, we can dream to create for them more than we had for ourselves, but the transitions of life continues, the flux, the grey areas, the questioning.

This article is taken from my July Mailout which also features some of my latest news and cultural highlights.

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Moving in a Circular Way

I know I've mentioned it before, but the recent book Faith, Hope & Carnage, conversations between Nick Cave and Sean O'Hagan, is such a beautiful exploration of loss, religious grappling and creative exploration. It has filled me with assurances and questions and moved me. A very special book. I was going to attempt to sum up one of my favourite sections but I really couldn't do it justice, so here's a short excerpt and I would encourage you all to find a copy for yourselves.
 

Sean: What do you mean, exactly, by a 'point of arrival'?

Nick: That feeling we all have at times that we have reached a certain level of self-awareness about our place in the world, a feeling that all our travails have led to this point, this destination.

And you're saying that, with hindsight, those points of arrival are deceptive?

Yes, because that sense of awareness and certainty often turns out to be just one more mistaken belief in a long line of mistaken - or discarded - beliefs. And when you are engaged in making art, that process by its nature can also continually appear to signal a point of arrival. Like, if I look back at my past work from the certainty and conviction of the present, it appears as if it was a series of collapsing ideas that brought me to my current position. And what's more, the actual point I'm looking back from is no more stable than any of the previous ones - in fact, it's being shed even as we speak. There's a slightly sickening, vertiginous feeling in all of this.

The sense that the ground is constantly moving beneath your feet?

Yes, exactly.

So how do you deal with that?

Well, I have learned over time that the creation itself, the thing, the what, is not the essential component, really, for the artist. The what almost always seems on some level insufficient. When I look back at the work itself it mostly feels wanting, you know; it could have been better. This is not false humility but fact, and common to most artists, I suspect. Indeed, it is probably how it should be. What matters most is not so much the 'what' as the 'how' of it all, and I am heartened by the knowledge that, at the very least, I turned up for the job, no matter what was going on at the time.

Even if I didn't really understand what the job was. I feel I have committed myself to the work in general, and given my best to each project in particular. There have been no half-measures, and I take a certain amount of pride in that.

So essentially what you are doing as an artist is constantly stumbling forward.

Stumbling forward is a beautiful way of putting it, Seán, but I wonder if the notion of forwardness is correct. Perhaps what I mean to say is that although we feel we are moving in a forward direction, in my estimation we are forever moving in a circular way, with all the things we love and remember in tow, and carrying all our needs and yearnings and hurts along with us, and all the people who have poured themselves into us and made us what we are, and all the ghosts who travel with us. It's like we are running towards God, but that God's love is also the wind that is pushing us on, as both the impetus and the destination, and it resides in both the living and the dead. Around and around we go, encountering the same things, again and again, but within this movement things happen that change us, annihilate us, shift our relationship to the world. It is this circular reciprocal motion that grows more essential and affirming and necessary with each turn.

Do you see this circular motion in your songs, too?

Yes, I feel as if I am perpetually revisiting or rehearsing the same concerns that have always been there, from childhood to the present day. They just keep coming around, time and time again, like a big wheel, from as far back as I can remember and into the future, but beautifully so, wonderfully so. Does that make sense?

I'll have to give it some thought.

This article is taken from my June Mailout which also features some of my latest news and cultural highlights.

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Dear Kairos - Shortlisted for Arles Prix du Livre

Putting a book out into the world comes as a real relief. The period in which it’s released isn’t always filled with the great sense of joy and accomplishment that you might imagine. The real beauty of it is knowing that once it’s in the world that countless people can encounter and engage with your creation. They can judge for what they perceive are your intentions, or they can dig into the layers that you put between the pages. Take it or leave it. By that point, it’s not up to me. Which makes it all the more rewarding when something you’ve made gets recognised by total strangers, people who have been drawn in by elements within the work that has encouraged them to dig deeper.

Getting nominated for prizes is far from my motivation for making books, and this one is a real surprise, because I had no idea that my publisher had submitted it. What a treat to be acknowledged alongside so many other wonderful publications.

Check out the really quite extensive list of books that have been shortlisted here.

(Thanks to Sarah for the portrait, one day the world may get to see more of what a stunningly talented creative person she is.)

Listening is risky

Do we ever dare to actually hear what we have to say to one another? Or are our minds so preoccupied with ourselves that we aren’t really listening, not because we don’t want to, but because we’re afraid to. 

Listening is risky. It involves an investment of emotional energy, of empathy and understanding that perhaps in that moment we don’t feel equipped to offer, but if we don’t, we miss out. We might even be missing out on the most important thing that that person will say all day, maybe even all week. It might be a coded cry for help, an admission, an apology or something that goes on to inform the relationship, but we won’t know unless we listen and admit that if we do, there might be consequences. 

Often listening is all that’s required. As an external processor, my wife knows that more often than not, all I need to do is verbalise something and that’s enough, to let the thought out and move on from there. However, sometimes we are required to actively listen and then act accordingly. It’s all too easy to hear something and park it away as if it was never said, but the foundation of a relationship and caring for someone is to have a level of responsibility for them, and sometimes that involves the risk of actually having to do something about what they’ve told you.

I’m speaking to myself as much as to anyone else, my brain seems to fizz around with so many of my own thoughts that it’s hard to switch off and not assume that whatever I’m hearing has to inform my own preoccupations. For me, I need to pursue ways in which to slow down, quieten my mind and be open and receptive to what people want to say, because how can we care for them if we don’t listen to what they have chosen to tell us.

This article is taken from my May Mailout which also features some of my latest news and cultural highlights.

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Dear Kairos - Out Now

My new book ‘Dear Kairos’ is out now! I’m so excited that you’ll all get to hold a copy for yourselves!

Over the next few weeks copies will find their way to regional bookshops, but for now you can get a copy directly from the publisher. It will also be available next weekend at Offprint London (Turbine Hall at Tate Modern) from the Skinnerboox table.

Purchase from Skinnerboox here.