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All papers, inks and mount-board materials are of conservation grade.
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Pin Mill, on the peninsula just south of
Ipswich, is a favourite spot of mine, and often
allows me an interesting picture. This one, of
which I had few expectations, has
nevertheless proven unusually popular with
my clientele at the yearly 'Art on the Prom' in
Felixstowe. Its simple lines and diagonal
composition are pleasing, though it's not a
picture we've hung on the wall at home. But it
takes all sorts, and I'm glad that it's pleased
others. An awful lot of rubbish is written
about photography as 'art', a concept to
which I have never subscribed, and do so even
less in this era of instant photography (of a
sort that Polaroid never envisaged), the sort
of 'art' that's now produced by Instagram
and Twitter feeds. I once had to film the
opening of a Polaroid exhibition somewhere
in London, I forget the details. It was universally trite and pretentious, and I clearly
wasn't the only one to think so, although somebody evidently didn't agree. The collection
is probably in the hands of the Tate Gallery now, I shouldn't be surprised, probably sold
for more than I've earned in my lifetime.
Pin Mill, on the peninsula just south of Ipswich, is a favourite spot of mine, and often
allows me an interesting picture. This one, of which I had few expectations, has
nevertheless proven unusually popular with my clientele at the yearly 'Art on the Prom'
in Felixstowe. Its simple lines and diagonal composition are pleasing, though it's not a
picture we've hung on the wall at home. But it takes all sorts, and I'm glad that it's
pleased others. An awful lot of rubbish is written about photography as 'art', a concept
to which I have never subscribed, and do so even less in this era of instant photography
(of a sort that Polaroid never envisaged), the sort of 'art' that's now produced by
Instagram and Twitter feeds. I once had to film the opening of a Polaroid exhibition
somewhere in London, I forget the details. It was universally trite and pretentious, and I
clearly wasn't the only one to think so, although somebody evidently didn't agree. The
collection is probably in the hands of the Tate Gallery now, I shouldn't be surprised,
probably sold for more than I've earned in my lifetime.
Pin Mill, on the peninsula just south of
Ipswich, is a favourite spot of mine, and often
allows me an interesting picture. This one, of
which I had few expectations, has
nevertheless proven unusually popular with
my clientele at the yearly 'Art on the Prom' in
Felixstowe. Its simple lines and diagonal
composition are pleasing, though it's not a
picture we've hung on the wall at home. But
it takes all sorts, and I'm glad that it's
pleased others. An awful lot of rubbish is
written about photography as 'art', a
concept to which I have never subscribed,
and do so even less in this era of instant
photography (of a sort that Polaroid never
envisaged), the sort of 'art' that's now
produced by Instagram and Twitter feeds. I
once had to film the opening of a Polaroid
exhibition somewhere in London, I forget the details. It was universally trite and
pretentious, and I clearly wasn't the only one to think so, although somebody evidently
didn't agree. The collection is probably in the hands of the Tate Gallery now, I shouldn't
be surprised, probably sold for more than I've earned in my lifetime.

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For your own fine-art print of this picture:
Pin Mill, on the peninsula just south of Ipswich, is a favourite spot of mine, and often allows me an interesting picture. This one, of which I had few expectations, has nevertheless proven unusually popular with my clientele at the yearly 'Art on the Prom' in Felixstowe.  Its simple lines and diagonal composition are pleasing, though it's not a picture we've hung on the wall at home. But it takes all sorts, and I'm glad that it's pleased others.  An awful lot of rubbish is written about photography as 'art', a concept to which I have never subscribed, and do so even less in this era of instant photography (of a sort that Polaroid never envisaged), the sort of 'art' that's now produced by Instagram and Twitter feeds. I once had to film the opening of a Polaroid exhibition somewhere in London, I forget the details. It was universally trite and pretentious, and I clearly wasn't the only one to think so, although somebody evidently didn't agree.  The collection is probably in the hands of the Tate Gallery now, I shouldn't be surprised, probably sold for more than I've earned in my lifetime.  
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