In the dark crevasse of a Manchester city centre underpass near a sleeping homeless man is some concrete. It started as a D.I.Y project by a few local skaters and it’s grim, proper grim. Jiri pops his nose from wallride on Toymachine wood. That magic is real, them feet are quick.
The crete is bad, the floor is bad, the light is bad and it’s raw power that skateboarding can even exist here. Cinch trundles through the darkness to hit up a wheel screeching kicker, my flash half blinding with strobes that echo in his blinkers. Skate photography on a raw power skateboarder.
One day the person who sleeps rough must have taken a dislike to the skateboarding and the concreting and in a show of defiance smeared excrement on the walls, fresh stinking poop smeared right where you skate.
It stunk, it stunk so bad. The memories of that stink can still be sniffed in these photographs, just hold your device near your nostrils and take a big sniff. That’s raw power wall poop smoking round your sinus. Scratch and sniff baby.
I love how Jiri uses his nose to escape from the stink. If you’re ever in Manchester go find this D.I.Y. It’s nothing like good and it’s full of broken glass. The man still lives here. Like many of the homeless in the city he seems lost and alone and unapproachable. Dirty protests will only get you so far and it’s a sorry sign of the times that people live like this. What he seems to forget is we are all protesting and we all want to live. It’s a reality few will really know. I think you got to do what you can despite the stink on the walls. You just got to keep rolling.