Inspired To Show


Waiting For An Audience

I’m trying to stop posting two blogs a night, but after I posted my last blog I had the good fortune to be followed by a couple of people, one of whom (click here to find out who, go on, I dare ya!) has inspired me to show some of the un-manipulated street photographs I have taken over the years.  As I explained to her in a comment on one of her posts, I was put off taking too many candid shots after getting yelled at by a market trader a few years ago when I levelled my Canon at him and took aim.  I still don’t know if I’ve forgiven him for that.  I do try now and then to get some decent results while cowering behind my wife and kids as we go shopping, or as we sit in Costa having a Mocha and Salted Caramel Latte, and here are a few of the results.


Coffee House Series #15


Coffee House Series #29


Waiting For A Train


London 2007


London 2007


Laid Back Lunch



Last Wishes

Last Wishes




Second Thoughts


Two’s Company


I Feel Good…Honest


On The Other Hand


Sleeping It Off



Where Forgotten Toys Go 16311

A selection of ten images from March of my year long Mega Series. This one is called Where Forgotten Toys Go, taken 16/3/11

A Gift For You A Helping Hand 25311

Yes, all three hands are mine…
A Gift For You – A Helping Hand 25/3/11

He Shot Me Down 3311

He Shot Me Down 3/3/11

Holding Autumn 29311

Holding Autumn 29/3/11

Let Me Out 15311

Let Me Out! 15/3/11

Missing Autumn 2311

Missing Autumn 2/3/11

Not Fade Away 13311

Not Fade Away 13/3/11

Reach Out 5311

Reach Out 5/3/11

The Unusual Suspects 17311

The Unusual Suspects 17/3/11

Unlock Your Potential 1311

Unlock Your Potential 1/3/11


The Coin – Part 1

I want to tell you a story…

Ok, this is somewhat difficult for me for a couple of reasons.  One,  this is quite a personal story.  Not because it’s about me, but rather that I made it up for my wife one night when she asked me to tell her – what she calls – a “Jamie” story.  Second, because I once wrote it as a (long) poem and it wasn’t received very well (I read the poem for the first time in a long time tonight, and, I have to say, it wasn’t as I remembered it!  Sad but true).  That being said, I have, for some time, wanted to write it out properly as a short story and I began doing so some months back.  I started, but I didn’t finish.  Not by a long chalk. 

Anyway, the point of all this rambling is because I have decided to post and introduce the first part of a little tale I called “The Coin” here on my blog in the hope that it will give the kick up the backside I need to finish writing it out.  Any comments – as long as they’re nice and/or helpful – would be greatly appreciated.  If they’re not nice and/or helpful I’ll cry and then delete them.  Probably.

Oh, and here’s the pic to go with this first part…


The young man walked down the street, happy in his own world, people watching and whistling quietly to himself.  He was tall, around six feet, with light brown hair that looked blond in a certain light, and he moved with a grace that belied his size.  His broad shoulders and chest filled his grey suit jacket, his tie undone now that the working day was over.  His brown eyes scanned the street, following his fellow pedestrians discretely, his mouth tweaking into a smile when he saw something that amused him.

He was always cheerful, though not annoyingly so, and had a way about him that seemed to endear him to others without even having to try.  He had a kind word for everyone he knew, and many that he didn’t, and he never talked badly about anyone behind their back; if he had something to say, he said it to their face and always out of earshot of others.

But he was lonely.

He lived alone in a small flat, in a tower block full of other small flats, filled with other lonely people from all walks of life.  He never let his loneliness bother him though, and he went out with his friends at the weekends, had people round to watch DVDs, all the usual stuff.  He just didn’t have anyone to share the quiet moments with.

Because he lived alone he wasn’t in any particular rush to get back to the flat, so he often walked home instead of catching the bus, perhaps two or three nights a week.  It helped keep him fit without the need for a gym membership and it let him indulge in his favourite pastime of people watching.  As he walked home on this particular night the opportunity to observe his fellow man was sparse, as there were hardly any other people around.  He found his eyes were scanning the pavement more and more and soon his face was turned toward the ground completely.  He glanced at something that caught his immediate attention.

He stopped and bent down to retrieve what turned out to be a golden coin, though it was a strange looking one, something that he had never seen before.  It was about an inch in diameter and perhaps a quarter inch thick with ribbed edging.  He turned it over in his hand, looking for any markings that would determine where the coin had originated from, but there wasn’t any writing on either side.  The stamps that were on it were unusual, however, and they held his interest.  On one side there was a depiction of two hearts that seemed to be seamlessly joined, as if they were actually only one organ and not two.  They were surrounded by what appeared to be a circle made from tulips, which he thought was wonderful as tulips were his favourite flower.  On the other side was the bust of a man with no hair and his huge chest exposed.  He had a menacing look that seemed to say, “You will do my bidding”.  The face made the young man kind of nervous, not in away that frightened him, but more perhaps how he’d feel if he were looking at a mentor of some sort.

Slowly his feet began moving again and soon he was back to his normal pace, though his eyes rarely ventured away from the surface of the coin and so it was quite some time before he noticed that he was being followed.

To be continued…

When Time Was A Child

When Time was a child
And we didn’t exist
With a breath and a word
And a flick of a wrist
We came into being
The Creator smiled
At humanity’s birth
When Time was a child.

Jamie F. Leader
Copyright ©2011 Jamie F. Leader

When Time Was A Child

When Time Was A Child

Self Portraits

These – as you probably guessed from the title of this blog post – are all pictures of me, taken for the pic-a-day mega series I did in 2011.  Sometimes, the only subject was me.  There’s a few more where these came from…


004Third Eye 4511

Third Eye 4/5/11

005Blind To Hate 5811

Blind To Hate 5/8/11

014 141011

Untitled 14/10/11

019Don't Loose Your Head 19811

Don’t Lose Your Head 19/8/11

022Don't Tell 22911

Don’t Tell 22/9/11

022Hello Darkness My Old Friend 221111

Hello Darkness My Old Friend 22/11/11

024Rough Day 24911

Rough Day 24/9/11

024The Other Side Of Me 241111

The Other Side Of Me 24/11/11

026Stained 261211

Stained 26/12/11

Escape The Hand Of Justice 27311

Escape The Hand Of Justice 27/3/11

Sonnet Number 2


Smeared Across The Page


I needed some time to reflect on this

So I could work out what had happened here.

The gentle touch followed by searing kiss

That had brought my heart and my soul to bear.

The vivid colours that now drench my sight,

Pulling me on towards oblivion,

Have rendered the whole of my world alive

And impossible to continue on

Without your touch and your kiss for my own,

For, once tasted, there is nothing compared.

And so, here we are, no longer alone,

Always adding to the days we have shared,

And will do so until the end of time,

For you are now, and will always, be mine.

Jamie F. Leader
Copyright ©2006 Jamie F. Leader