Tom Langlands Photography Blog

Todd Lamprun knew that he was one of the lucky ones. Three weeks ago and for four weeks before that he had been lying in a hospital bed wired to a myriad of life-support machines and monitors in the Covid-19 intensive care unit of Feelgood Hospital. For a while it had been touch and go but now he found himself in a room on a side-ward regaining his strength and coming to terms with his close encounter of the Covid kind. He felt physically weak, encountered spells of confusion and was prone to moments of forgetfulness. Periodic mood swings enveloped him. These ranged from anger at not knowing how he had contracted the disease in the first place, a deep sadness at not having had any visitors since his admission to hospital and moments of joy at the realisation that he was still alive against all the odds. His daily routine revolved around a morning visit from the consultant occasionally accompanied by a student doctor, the duty-nurse who would take his blood pressure and temperature and

It wasn’t until I got a Saturday job in a camera shop at the age of sixteen that I truly discovered photography. It was rather like being a child in a sweet shop and without doubt it was my first appreciation of the phrase ‘toys for the  boys’ (although that should definitely include girls now too). As a member of staff I was allowed to borrow second-hand cameras and of course I got first-hand experience of all the new equipment that arrived. I have no idea how many different cameras I experimented with but over the course of that first year it was well into double figures. That was almost fifty years ago and without doubt that was where I learned the basics of photography and all of the technical skills that I have carried with me through life.  A few years later I went to Art College to study architecture but I still worked during holiday periods in photography shops. Looking back I now realise that my interest in photography combined with learning about buildings

We all boarded the bus in the early morning sunshine: mums, dads, children and grandparents. The teenagers clambered to get upstairs first - freedom away from the prying eyes of their elders. The excitement was palpable, “Where do you think we will be going?” “I reckon the seaside,” said one mother, “It’s such a glorious day and the temperature is rising.” “Oh, I hope not,” exclaimed an older grandmother whose dry wrinkles reminded me of the ripples on the beach long after the tide had ebbed. “All that sand gets everywhere.” It seemed that although the bus was now full not everyone was embracing the concept of a mystery tour. “I’m only here because you thought it would be good if the whole family came along.” “That’s right,” replied the dad with the short-sleeved shirt, arms bristling with tattoos, “Stop your moanin’. It’ll be great for the kids. It’s not all about you, you know.”  The grandmother cast a disapproving glance and sat down, muttering, “I just like to know

When I was a student of architecture I came upon a book that would change my academic life and open my eyes to what architecture is truly all about. It was a catalogue of work by five emerging architects who practiced in and around New York. Opening that catalogue took me to New York and into some famous - and quite different - examples of domestic architecture and enabled me to meet some very interesting people. It sparked an interest as to how we interpret and understand architecture and it led me into the world of linguistics and semiotics - fields that still enthral me to this day. This poem is about that journey. The Unspoken Word there never was a New York Five only a catalogue architecture beyond the ramparts  of planners who never heard  Corbusier’s trumpet  or saw freedom when the walls of Maison Dom-ino fell black lines  on white paper that rose from the pages  of a closed book there is a clarity that emerges with the new like understandin

These five poems were written during self isolation brought about by the global pandemic of novel coronavirus. They reflect my emotions at different stages over the last few weeks - from anger to contemplation to hope. I would like to think that each offers a degree of hope in different ways in the midst of these long weeks. Self isolation will end but these last few weeks also afford us the opportunity to re-evaluate what is important in life.  Follow me at:-   www.tomlanglandsphotography.com Follow me at:-   www.facebook.com/TomLanglandsPhotography Follow me at:-   www.tomlphotography.blogspot.com Follow me at:-   www.twitter.com/tomlphotography Follow me at:-   www.flickr.com/photos/tom_langlands_photography Poetry and photography copyright of Tom Langlands

The following short story was the consequence of a walk in the countryside near my home during the coronavirus lockdown. I stopped to take a photograph of a grassy knoll with this year's lambs enjoying a spell of sunshine. As the sheep watched me with interest it got me wondering what the animals would be thinking of our current situation if they were capable of having thoughts about such matters. After all, I reckoned they have a lot of experience that they could bring to bear on our current predicament. The Covid-19 Taskforce of the Wildlife Health Organisation The Covid-19 Taskforce of the Wildlife Health Organisation (WHO) was in session. Mr Badger peered over the frame of his thick-lensed spectacles, tilted his snout in the air and gave a short but audible sniff before beginning, “As you are aware the human population has been infected by a new and dangerous virus that is spreading out of control. At present there is no cure and no effective treatment.” “There