Every Day For A Year #19 or: A-Yibbida-Yibbida

A little over a year ago at the pub, my mate Frosty told me that he was going to take a photo every day for a year, to hone his mad rectangular picture-making skillz.



I asked him if I could post the photos in this neck of the woods, thinking it would be an interesting project to invite myself to be involved in.


WHAT.


IN THE NAME OF STINKY BLUE CHEESE.


WAS I THINKING.


I was thinking it would be awesome and, for me at least (because I love you all, but seriously, find your own fun), I was right.


Usually over the space of twelve months, you just learn a random melange of facts about your friends. For example, over the same period, I discovered that Frosty accrues massive dental bills, likes hats with knitted beards attached, looks decent in a suit, and can apparently fart up a festival tent like a champion.


Things I wasn’t expecting to learn about him though, but have done so through the regularly-deposited images in my inbox, are things like the fact that Frosty can make a busy city street seem suddenly quiet and gently autumnal. That he has a sensitivity for texture that most of us don’t. That he can twist your visual expectations in surprising ways just by tilting his camera a little to the left. And that he barely gives away a single emotion or secret in person, but can gush like a hormonal schoolgirl via shapes, angles and light.


I’ve also learned that if you compliment him too much, his ego expands faster than a Wettex in a swimming pool, so I should probably just shut up and get on with it.


Frosty, thanks for sending me all these pictures. They take forever to upload, you bastard. And worth every second.


In closing: That last one’s a pearler, my friend. Gluckwunsche!