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/projects list for J A Mortram

Project:
 © Jim Mortram (
)
0 photo(s)
and 0 draft(s),
created on 24-08-2009
0 project comment(s)
,
0 photos comment(s)
PROJECT DESCRIPTION
*New project coming soon documenting the PACT Animal Sanctuary.

Please visit their web-site :

http://www.pactsanctuary.org/

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Project:
 © Jim Mortram (
)
0 photo(s)
and 0 draft(s),
created on 29-07-2009
1 project comment(s)
,
0 photos comment(s)
PROJECT DESCRIPTION
Infrequently I get to visit Norwich, East Anglia the City closest to my home, a 40 minute drive away.

Always I take my camera and record the elements that stand out to me, that fall into my lens and the people that I engage in conversation with. 

This is a complete project made during 3 visits over the last 8 months.
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Project:
 © Jim Mortram (
)
0 photo(s)
and 0 draft(s),
created on 27-07-2009
1 project comment(s)
,
0 photos comment(s)
PROJECT DESCRIPTION
A documentary of the many people living on the fringe of Dereham, the local Market town. All residents are within a 2 mile radius from each other.
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Project:
 © Jim Mortram (
)
0 photo(s)
and 0 draft(s),
created on 27-07-2009
2 project comment(s)
,
0 photos comment(s)
PROJECT DESCRIPTION
An ongoing documentary of the local Mental Health Arts group that my cousin attends. So far I have only had an introductory meeting and had a welcome to all the members who made me feel very welcome and its a joy to have such access to their works, individually and collectively.

Take the time to visit some of the work produced by artists within the group here :

http://www.flickr.com/photos/40271890@N05/
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Project:
 © Jim Mortram (
)
0 photo(s)
and 0 draft(s),
created on 19-06-2009
0 project comment(s)
,
0 photos comment(s)
PROJECT DESCRIPTION
Having not visited the City for many months I hoped to make as good a number of photographs as I could in the hour I had free. Walking around the fringes of the City I bumped into two young lads with an Auntie they were waiting for, passed out from alcohol. They were both amiable and we talked as they showed me a BB gun. I checked over their Auntie, just to ensure it was not serious and within a few moments she awoke and they moved on.

City life.

 
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Project:
 © Jim Mortram (
)
0 photo(s)
and 0 draft(s),
created on 18-06-2009
1 project comment(s)
,
0 photos comment(s)
PROJECT DESCRIPTION
Part of my ongoing series of the people that live within a 5 mile area of Norfolk, UK.

Conversations are the foundation to all of my shoots... they enable moments of reflection, animation... the natural ebb and flow of talking facilitates a natural dynamic... and I'm honored to be given the opportunity to listen to some amazing stories and observations. 


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Project:
 © Jim Mortram (
)
0 photo(s)
and 0 draft(s),
created on 15-06-2009
1 project comment(s)
,
0 photos comment(s)
PROJECT DESCRIPTION
Some encounters begin with such randomness.

A mile from home a tall fridge stands erect like the mysterious obelisque from 2001 a space odyssey in negative with a 'free to good home' sign pasted upon its door.

I needed a fridge (to keep films in) at home so stopped to pick it up and Bill came out from his bungalow to meet us and I knew instantly that I had to hear some of his stories... any man that had painted an African vista including lions and palm trees 6x6ft on his garage door and adjacent wall was going to be interesting...

I had no idea on out first meeting what an understatement this instinct was going to be.

Bill has been a merchant seaman, sunk at sea at 17 and picked up many days later by an American destroyer. He and the crew were transported back to the deep South where in a bar he had a gun put to his head (As demonstrated as he tells me in the photograph above) by a racist Sheriff that did not take to Bill not caring that the seat he occupied in a bar was for 'blacks only'... Bill in fact had quite a lot to say to both the Sheriff and his cocked pistol before hopping a train to travel across the U.S to New York and a boat back to the England he had left behind.

Bill was part of the D-Day attack just as my late grandfather was and the thought of these two men both present to such a day in history, such a moment of intensity and madness just took my breath away...

Amazingly Bill is 84 and it was no surprise to me given his fitness that he was a Black belt Judo instructor that had taught many hundreds of people, including blind and deaf children how to defend themselves. He taught to me the code of Bushido.

Bill has been a clown. A proper clown all face paint and transfixed children... a true entertainer... he told me the 'pratfalls' of a clown are so similar to the correct way to fall in Judo it came naturally to him.

Bill has held lectures on creative writing and still holds classes in both creative writing and Art. His poetry is just amazing, subtle and with tiny jewels of wit and observation sewn through every work.

A true, in his words 'Alpha male' Bill is a force of nature... in the space of 4 hours we talked about everything from his travels, his family, his pastimes, poetry and art to the nature of time, space and his lovely sadly departed wife Jenny... I was utterly transfixed for every second.
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Project:
 © Jim Mortram (
)
0 photo(s)
and 0 draft(s),
created on 15-06-2009
1 project comment(s)
,
0 photos comment(s)
PROJECT DESCRIPTION
He insisted on being called Wobbly Jon... 'My names Jon and I wobble... so Wobbly Jon it is'... he told me in a thick Welsh brogue.

I'd met Jon outside a cafe and got talking, his story as colorful  as the Liverpool home shirt he wore with evident pride. Jon told me of his having Cerebral Palsy and that everyone had given up on him... unable to walk and talk.

'At 14' he told me 'I just though fuck it... I was in a wheel chair, I had to point at things to be understood... so I started working my muscles slowly, more and more, I'd drag myself up the stairs at home and hang on the monkey bars at school... after months and months and months I got stronger and my speech improved... eventually it got to a point where I could walk, shakily... and I never told anyone, just kept practicing... then this one day, I walked home from school in the middle of the day, got home and my Mum started crying... and I was worried in case I had upset her... but she was crying out of happiness as it was the first time I had walked any real distance alone and I realized she was happy!... but I still wobble!... kids always used names on me... but, I know I'm stronger than they are... they never had it as tough... so it makes me stronger from inside...'

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Project:
 © Jim Mortram (
)
0 photo(s)
and 0 draft(s),
created on 14-06-2009
0 project comment(s)
,
0 photos comment(s)
PROJECT DESCRIPTION

This was taken literally days before WH passed away and was my last photo of him.

I'd visited as usual to see how things were and have a chat. He had gone for some Fish & Chips and when he came out of the shop some young guys in the little car-park had claimed he had scraped their van with his car, which he had not done... yet they followed him home and demanded he pay for repairs to an extortionate amount.

They wanted only cash and tried all sorts of things on to get him to pay... yet they had not anticipated WH's guile and he called their boss and it fast transpired that they were working alone, a kind of blackmail trick that I suspect they played a lot on elderly people. If they would not pay they would say they would work in exchange for money and not tell their boss... a cruel trick to get business.

We went outside and took photos of WH's car to show no damage or evidence of any collision, no paint on the wing mirror etc...

Back inside WH was noting all the details down and we were going through what should be said to the Police. He was worried though, in case they came back.

He had my number and I told him to call if they arrived... I had more than a little I was eager to say to them and as I lived 2 doors down would be there in seconds.

Sadly, WH was taken into hospital for an operation relating to his cancer and caught a stomach bug in hospital and passed away. He survived the 10 hour operation and the bug he caught in hospital took him.

Behind him, on the wall are cards left for his wife when she passed away... he loved and missed her dearly and I adored that about him. Those loves that nothing can bend nor break. I admired that, among many qualities he had. WH was a real romantic...

People, often miss the reality in the people around them... the stories both good and bad, the heartaches, the defining moments... the loves and life of them.

I'm honored to have had WH share some of his with me.
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Project:
 © Jim Mortram (
)
0 photo(s)
and 0 draft(s),
created on 14-06-2009
0 project comment(s)
,
0 photos comment(s)
PROJECT DESCRIPTION
A collection of images made during the last conversation shared with my late friend WH.

I'd visited as usual to see how things were and have a chat. He had gone for some Fish & Chips and when he came out of the shop some young guys in the little car-park had claimed he had scraped their van with his car, which he had not done... yet they followed him home and demanded he pay for repairs to an extortionate amount.

They wanted only cash and tried all sorts of things on to get him to pay... yet they had not anticipated WH's guile and he called their boss and it fast transpired that they were working alone, a kind of blackmail trick that I suspect they played a lot on elderly people. If they would not pay they would say they would work in exchange for money and not tell their boss... a cruel trick to get business.

We went outside and took photos of WH's car to show no damage or evidence of any collision, no paint on the wing mirror etc...

Back inside WH was noting all the details down and we were going through what should be said to the Police. He was worried though, in case they came back.

Sadly, WH was taken into hospital for an operation relating to his cancer and caught a stomach bug in hospital and passed away. He survived the 10 hour operation and the bug he caught in hospital took him.

Behind him, on the wall are cards left for his wife when she passed away... he loved and missed her dearly and I adored that about him. Those loves that nothing can bend nor break. I admired that, among many qualities he had. WH was a real romantic...

People, often miss the reality in the people around them... the stories both good and bad, the heartaches, the defining moments... the loves and life of them.

I'm honored to have had WH share some of his with me.
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Project:
 © Jim Mortram (
)
0 photo(s)
and 0 draft(s),
created on 31-05-2009
0 project comment(s)
,
0 photos comment(s)
PROJECT DESCRIPTION
These were taken literally days before my friend WH passed away and are a collection of my last photographs of him.

I'd visited as usual upon this last visit to see how things were and have a chat. WH told me had driven to the next village for some Fish & Chips and when exiting the shop some young men in the shop car-park had claimed he had scraped their van with his car, which he had not done... yet they followed him home and demanded he pay for repairs to an extortionate amount.

They wanted only cash and tried all sorts of things on to get him to pay... yet they had not anticipated WH's guile and intellect... he stalled all attempted influence and called their boss and it fast transpired that they were working alone, a kind of blackmail trick that is played a lot on elderly people. If their victims would not pay they would demand they would work in exchange for money and not tell their boss and keep the money.

Sadly, WH was taken into hospital for an operation relating to his cancer and caught a stomach bug in hospital and passed away. He survived the 10 hour operation and the bug he caught in hospital took him.

People, often miss the reality in the people around them... the stories both good and bad, the heartaches, the defining moments... the loves and life of them.
DELETED_ADMIN ACTIVE    
Project:
 © Jim Mortram (
)
0 photo(s)
and 0 draft(s),
created on 31-05-2009
0 project comment(s)
,
0 photos comment(s)
PROJECT DESCRIPTION
A contemporary study of the individuals within a 2 miles radius from the center of the hamlet village of Clint Green in the rural East Anglian United Kingdom.



Come the fall the shadow itself cuts wayward,
The arbitrary strokes of a drunk surgeon master,
Wreaking blind swathes of disarray and relinquishment,
Mute to all accusatory questions,
To riposte for such cruelties.


The change came as easy as drift snow against high coastal bulwarks,
Stripping walls and fascia a natural skin bare,
Irrespective of the patina of a family lifetime.


There is one sallow capitulation fostered through tears,
All the harmony, disquiet and celebrations,
Of alphabets learned,
Of wishes and promises,
Of yearnings passed on with no portal for Chinese whispers to take,
Fast aching intent across the whole wide span of water,
Over land and its folly,
Of deaths and of fatherhood,
Of anniversaries and of debts,
Of secrets and confessions,
Of welcome and refusal,
Of cheer and seduction.

All this where he stood in role parallel,
Hands touching beyond eyes,
Hands talking and telling,
In language just whispered within duties confines.

      and solitary limb has just endearment,
Within the boughs of cupidity,
So pays for a mothers benevolence.

Made pariah,
The audition failure typecast archaic,
Severed and torn,
Stripped and cast out,
Finally to take root in the forgotten grounds of accumulation,
To still flower in Spring beneath the tall fruitless tree.



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