Toby Miller
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tobytram.bsky.social
Toby Miller
@tobytram.bsky.social
Freelance video editor. Nebraskan/East Anglian, so possibly inclined towards flat lands. Once hosted a radio show about cinema, but now mainly take photos using prisms or pinholes. Being kept for my decorative seed head.

A stones throw from Cambridge.
And they don’t know, because they’re experimental improvisers not film buffs, that ‘The Lichtbob’s Lassie’ is the root of ‘I Know Where I’m Going’.

So I’m walking along a field and this oh so familiar tune takes shape, only it is in drones and bells and a muted New York saxophone. Worlds collide.
This made me cry a little - At the 56 minute mark there’s a collaboration between the brilliant Lea Bertucci (saxophone, bells, electronics) & Harry Gorski-Brown (pipes), where they turn the traditional song ‘The Lichtbob's Lassie’ into a tune made of seaborn mist.
www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/...
Late Junction - Lea Bertucci and Harry Górski-Brown in session - BBC Sounds
Jennifer Lucy Allan presents the latest in our remote collaboration sessions.
www.bbc.co.uk
November 28, 2025 at 7:16 PM
This made me cry a little - At the 56 minute mark there’s a collaboration between the brilliant Lea Bertucci (saxophone, bells, electronics) & Harry Gorski-Brown (pipes), where they turn the traditional song ‘The Lichtbob's Lassie’ into a tune made of seaborn mist.
www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/...
Late Junction - Lea Bertucci and Harry Górski-Brown in session - BBC Sounds
Jennifer Lucy Allan presents the latest in our remote collaboration sessions.
www.bbc.co.uk
November 28, 2025 at 6:44 PM
Evening walk, torchlight out of the watermeadow; nothing here but the farm kennels. I’m listening to Late Junction on headphones - a piece by Kunitaka Sato. My presence is making the dogs bark.

And I realise this is neat. The music and the barks work together. So I replicated it as a video.
November 28, 2025 at 6:13 PM
Yesterday, walking the water meadow at dusk, I spotted a single bat at the exact same moment I heard the excited whistle of the steam engine from the nearby miniature railway - so that's now the noise bats make.
November 28, 2025 at 10:03 AM
Perfect number 1 film (which would also be a contender for Best Film with a swimming scene / Best Film about cats / Best Film set in a cosy chaos)
November 27, 2025 at 3:24 PM
In the Cycle Shop waiting for my fixed bike. A lady walks in with a puppy Jack Russell, which gets free and runs about; she sniffs me, darts away, back to sniff, retreats again.

“Don’t be silly Molly. He’s a nice man. A safe man. Look..I’m stroking him”

And this stranger starts stroking my jumper.
November 27, 2025 at 11:28 AM
“Meep meep” over the bench the teenagers usual gather at to smoke.
November 26, 2025 at 6:32 PM
Lidl, Kevin. They come from Lidl.
November 26, 2025 at 11:47 AM
in and out of the local bookshop, as Christmas gifts are ordered and delivered - and the ability of the bookshop to (almost always) say "we'll have that for you by tomorrow" is about the closest thing we have left to old Night Mail magic.

there must be vans filled with books that drive all night.
November 26, 2025 at 11:33 AM
Reposted by Toby Miller
INTERNATIONAL BUSINESS MACHINES >>> sound & vision made using an IBM hole punch on 16mm film/tape loops/celluloid synthesiser vision to sound/vox >>> loops of the ‘obsolete’ and the handmade
#ibm #tapeloops
November 25, 2025 at 10:23 PM
Reposted by Toby Miller
Catching up on the bowtie block from last week's quilt class. Pleased with getting my points lined up for the first two. The 3D version (where you can get a finger under each of the four edges of the "knot") is much more fiddly and will take another 2-3 attempts before I properly get the knack.
November 25, 2025 at 8:40 PM
Certainly have entered my golden age of ‘Finding Owls by torchlight’.

Managed a closer photo of this Tawny Owl, but I like this image where it’s looking round the branch at me. Wondering if there’s a meal worth having under all that packaging of coat and scarf and hat.
November 25, 2025 at 7:18 PM
Looked down from working to see Rula walking along the high street, window shopping for fancy jewellery she’d drop hints to her husband that she wanted for Christmas. She’s on her way to the Ritz, for tea and gossip with Gwendolyn.
November 25, 2025 at 9:44 AM
Reposted by Toby Miller
I loved Toby's photos and so made this
November 23, 2025 at 9:09 PM
Last excerpt. Originally published in 1964, An Enemy at Green Knowe is as eerie as I hoped for, sort of A Casting the Runes rewritten for children, with a smidgen of Miyazaki in the squirming oily animalistic nature of the dark magic put against the ancient house and its occupants.
November 24, 2025 at 9:11 AM
An illustration for An Enemy at Green Knowe.

The witches’ cats have driven the birds from Green Knowe’s garden. But one of the boys has painted a banner, lit a lantern and is buying his hair with the hair of Hanno the escaped gorilla (from a previous book). The spirit of the gorilla will help.
November 23, 2025 at 7:54 PM
I looked up this scene to send to my partner (mainly for Bob Hope’s “hurry up, this is impossible”, a line that sums up the magic of cinema in general”)

But the work here is so clever - the three wheel car in the wide shot, and the horse stunt work - especially when behind the backfiring car.
November 23, 2025 at 1:41 PM
Knowing she’d like the tiles I forwarded this post to my mother.

She responded with a long memory - I had totally forgotten my English grandfather was a fish and chip shop owner for a while in the 1960’s (many decades later he was head chef for Ipswich Town FC restaurant)

I like the chairs waiting
November 23, 2025 at 11:18 AM
Dropped a half full punnet of blueberries on the kitchen floor, and as I tried to sweep them up I was reminded of Nicolas Cage’s desperate kidnapper trying to recapture all the babies in Raising Arizona.
November 23, 2025 at 9:00 AM
The charity shop had the 3 Green Knowe books I was missing. This excerpt is from ‘An Enemy at Green Knowe’.

Lucy Boston is here describing both the house in the story and the ancient home she lovingly restored.

‘.. if you let in a nine-hundred-year dose of time, you let in almost everything.’
November 22, 2025 at 12:30 PM
Eyebrows should give off enough light to read by.
November 21, 2025 at 10:00 PM
Thelma Ritter in Pillow Talk, looking like they’ve scratched away the celluloid emulsion to discover another, earlier and more thrilling, film underneath.
November 20, 2025 at 8:36 PM
But back in the 1970’s an English lady arrived in the mid-west and grew a small garden.

Reminded of Penelope Fitzgerald’s The Bookshop, who opens her store in the small town and nobody ever really wants it.
November 20, 2025 at 10:35 AM
Ok, this is cool.

In America, in Nebraska, we lived next to an airbase. British Vulcans were based there; Vulcans are the coolest of planes - an art nouveau Star Wars of a shape and Neil Young feedback of a roar. I recall them flying over, and here one is, all faded like a photocopy of a photocopy
November 20, 2025 at 10:10 AM
A single snowflake forecast to roll into town after dark, like the troublemaker in a western, arriving on an otherwise empty train. He won’t plan to stay, but he takes a liking to our gentle town, and to the schoolteacher. He looks to set his past behind him, and we’ll convince him to be our sheriff
November 20, 2025 at 8:37 AM