drunk on freedom duncan crossley

I bred my bullterrier a few years ago. The resulting litter was seven strong. First out was a white bitch with a black patch over her left eye. She was also the first to open her eyes. I can remember my wife calling to me from the puppy room "The white girl's got an evil eye!" and so it proved. Her left eye was black like its patch, her right was blue. We could have called her Marilyn Manson because she had that look but we'd had a ferret called Nancy Vicious who'd had a similar spirit to this feisty pup, so that became her name. She was a punk rocker.
All her brothers and sisters were a pretty mellow bunch but Nancy kept every one on their paws. One morning as I photographed them at play in the garden, Nancy came trotting over to me and engaged. I knelt down, flipped her over onto her back and held her in place while I took her picture. I've always regretted selling her but knew at the time she'd have been to much for her mum. I didn't get the film developed until months after she'd gone. Her picture struck me as a good example of the random beauty of technically bad photography. I liked the different ways it's content could be interpreted. It seemed like a collaborative effort between us to create another version of the icon that is the white eyepatched bullterrier head. I wanted to turn the photo into a piece that would double up as a pleasant source of ambient light in whichever interior it ended up inhabiting. The toughened plate glass sandwich, in which the transparency is the filling, has it's polished edges exposed. The blue is to match her eyes.


drunk on freedom duncan crossley
drunk on freedom duncan crossley
drunk on freedom duncan crossley