Marc Provins

Whenever I lack inspiration or creative direction I head for the coast. Yesterday was hot, and the first proper day of my summer break so I packed my camera, got in the car and headed west. An hour later I was in New Brighton, the bit of The Wirral that looks over the Liverpool skyline. It also has it's own place in photographic history being the location for Martin Parr's The Last Resort. It would seem that the intervening 30 years have been kind to the place and it looks and feels reinvented, even Parr would be hard pressed to update his series now.  Liverpool has a magnetic pull for me and so after a couple of hours exploring and seeing the city across the water I zipped through the tunnel to see things from the other side. This journey in itself is a novelty, how many cities in the world can be approached in this way I wonder? It reinforces the grandness of the place, the architecture always makes me feel like I'm in a capital city and...

I had half an hour or so to explore the streets of South Kensington on Wednesday. I was amused to find that people cover their Rolls Royces and Bentleys in this neck of the woods. This seems remarkably modest and quite the opposite of one-upmanship, or maybe it's just to keep the leaves and bird poo at bay. I really like the suggestion of form and shape sheathed in grey fabric, hugging the expensive, polished machine beneath. One of my highlights of this trip to London happened in the tunnel from the museums back to South Kensington tube station. A group of twenty or so infant school children were walking with their teachers slightly ahead of us, when some of them started to sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. This built and built as more of them joined in and the sound reverberated around the tunnel. An elderly busker realised what was happening and joined in on his guitar, grinning excitedly at the opportunity of a spontaneous jam. The whole thing o...