Firstly, they are not the best of photographs, they are not the worst of photographs. Once again they were taken around East London, that's part of the schema. To accompany the images is a story. It's a snuff story. It kinda had to be, it's about man being crucified. There is a photo of a crucifix, the light was good on the day and most images came out OK. That photograph was taken in Stamford Hill. Stamford Hill is a large Jewish area. The man on the cross is an East End Jew. He is on top of a church. A church is a place where they peddle Jewish wisdom to shmucks. All wisdom is peddled to shmucks, it has to be. He is a Jew for Jesus. He'd be a real mishugunah not to be. He's Jesus afterall. He's not really Jesus afterall, he's an it, it is metal.
*Disclaimer, by describing sacred icons as meaningless I mean no offence. I do not mean anything. Nor did Jesus. We're in the same boat, we're like the owl and the pussycat. It's good fun to alternate between these roles. Meaning is something forced on to something and it does not come from it. As Alan Watts pointed out, you are not born into this world, you are born from it like a tree. (like a dream, I add).
Furthermore, I do not believe in the notion of 'good light'. Let us go beyond good and bad light into light.*
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