“Life as it unfolds in front of the camera is full of so much complexity, wonder and surprise that I find it unnecessary to create new realities. There is more pleasure, for me, in things as-they-are.” — David Hurn
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The streets didn’t make Rudd tough. In a landscape full of invisible borders, he is the dictionary that everyone borrowed but no one owned. His realism is actually cynicism and it’s recognition that urban ecosystems operate by rules as immutable as gravity, but as navigable as a familiar bus timetable.
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Paint peeled back. Brickline wavering. It’s all holding together, just. Like a memory refusing to fade because it knows something you don’t.
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We assume that people lash out because they misunderstand. But they lash out because they understand all too well, just early enough to see what’s coming and too late to change it. This is the cruel symmetry of hindsight. The intellectual’s rage isn’t that history betrayed them. It’s that it followed the script exactly.
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One is the hunch what you feel before the facts arrive. Two is the glance, the split-second you Three is the pattern because the brain finds comfort in trios. Five is the story because we can’t help building one.
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The great liar in the world isn’t the shadow, it’s the light. Because once something is lit, we assume it’s true. We assume it’s the whole story. But light doesn’t tell stories, it edits them. It carves out the inconvenient, the peripheral, the unphotogenic. It makes a promise it can’t keep: that seeing is believing.
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Toy Story lied. There’s no secret midnight congress of toys. There’s only silence. Dust. Maybe mould. We don’t mourn toys like we mourn people, but the violence is no less real. The act itself and what it says. That joy has an expiry date. That everything, even magic, becomes part of the mess eventually.
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In every city, there’s a road that carries more history than traffic. To regenerate it is a matter of architecture and an act of storytelling. And like all good stories, it’s uneven.
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Lucy had taken something. Not a thing, exactly. More like space. Time. The kind of currency people spend without noticing. Kitty noticed.
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