A book about taking life as it is. Doing things rather than having things. Being with friends and being excited about the ordinary and the routine and making it memorable.

I always loved travelling and staying at someone else’s place — especially back in the ’80s. And I loved it when people came to stay at mine. We did it all the time. Mostly arranged by letter or via phoneboxes.

We were in our first jobs. We had virtually nothing. No one owned much — everything fit into one sparse room. But everyone had music, and something to play it on. That’s where the money went. Music. Cameras. A TV. Maybe the odd can of beer – but never on food.

Everything felt interesting. You could absorb it all because there was so little of it. No clutter, no excess. It was lo-fi and basic. Charity shop finds. Homemade. DIY. Things found in the street, scrounged and shared. Simple, experimental, hand-to-mouth. Scruffy, but never bleak.

Always bus stops and train stations. Walking everywhere. Sleeping on floors. Eating on floors. Down the pub. Kitchens. Lounging. Posing. No one had a car. All weathers, all seasons. And always time for a self-portrait, or a photo booth session.

Hand made, stab bound photobook. Edition of 20.

Images digitised from 35mm negatives hand-processed between 1982 and 1985.

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