Nerd Immunity

San Francisco CA

Description

Greetings from my shed... Christian Pain in neck Writing this dispatch is a part of a larger creative process. For example I just accidentally destroyed a perfectly good 32” UHD monitor. But I shall call the resulting piece ‘Art Brut’ and you can buy it for £299. It’s 3840x2160, backlit and comes with its own stand and frame. The image also evolves with whatever operating system you currently use. Anyway… Welcome new folk. I’m Christian Payne, or @Documentally online. A former shepherd, photojournalist and technologist. This email is a curious journal in search of novelty. In amongst the distractions (when i’m not dropping monitors) I like to explore what we share, how we share and where we’re going. Every other week is free but all the content I share here and access to the back channels costs less than a beer a month. So please consider subscribing. (…as I need $299) for a new monitor.) #TheAction Church buildings for many are a place of reverence and worship. But not being religious I don’t get inside them that often. I like to feel the awe of the vaulted space and its hewn stone architecture. For me they are places steeped in history and stories spanning generations. This week I was honoured to be invited to the licensing of the Revd David Sheppard. An old internet friend who will be living and working locally for a while. We sat in a packed church with everyone singing trough masks, a bishop with his crook on a throne and David being sworn in. It was a wonderful ceremony for a truly lovely guy. Afterwards, while everyone filtered out and over to another building for refreshments, I saw the entrance to the steeple was unlocked. I knew there were some folk on the bell ringers balcony so headed up to check for photo opportunities. But I couldn’t resist the temptation to ascend further. Instead of exiting at the first door, I continued climbing. Pushing matted cobwebs aside, the dusty spiral staircase finally opened out into the steeple. For a structure approaching it’s 700th year it was stunning. Magestic. I stepped out onto a creaky wooden platform and momentarily considered the headline should I fall through the floor. ‘Christian Pain - Man dies falling through the roof of a church.’ Changing my stance I spread my weight and climbed a little higher. Checking the altitude on my watch I could see I was at around 55m above sea level. (That’s high around here.) Not wanting to miss an opportunity. I took a radio out of my pocket. I’d planned to join in the weekly 4 meter amateur radio net on the walk home but this seemed like the perfect opportunity to tell them i’d be late. While fiddling with the radio I heard the slam of a door below and decided it might be best to descend. I gingerly felt my way down and back to ground level. But that was as far as I could go. The door was locked. In the cramped, dark, freakishly warm space, I crouched to look through a hole in the ancient door. Outside I could see David greeting the last few folk exiting the main building. I thought about calling to him but didn’t want to create a scene. So instead I contemplated possible exit strategies. Perhaps I could use some bell rope and climb out onto the church roof. Awesome fun but too spectacular. Someone is sure to see and then how might I explain that away. Plus I’d still need to find a way down from there. I had a multitool on my belt, maybe I could pick the antique lock. Also fun, but I opted instead to message West, a friend who had been live-streaming the ceremony. More time passed. West doesn’t check his phone that often so I watched the world go by outside the hole. Like a gargoyle in storage. I contemplated how places of quiet are disappearing, on how little time I had previously spent in churches, and now I was here being held prisoner by one. It took a phone call to finally get his attention so he could grab the churchwarden. As they both approached I could tell that in all his years, the warden had not had anyone get locked in the steeple. I heard keys jangle and the suggestion that this was a prank, that there was no one behind the door. So I struck a pose and as the door cracked spreading light into the sweaty gloom I said. “Nope… I’m most certainly here.” Thankfully there was laughter and smiles. And we all went to find the wine.