Toby Miller
banner
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.
set the urgent task to edit a video about this win. Sent a wide shot of the auditorium as the winner announced.

"and the winner is...."

and onto the giant screens they bring up the graphic just used for a different award, utterly ruining the only video I have to work with.
An event I was involved in promoting (I edited the video case study shown to the judges) just won an award in Portugal - so I’m going to celebrate by having some cheese after 9pm.
November 25, 2025 at 3:18 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
Another little trick vampires could learn from cats is coming into your house, standing in the room until they know you've seen them, then jumping out of the kitchen window to wait outside the kitchen door like they're a different cat/vampire.
November 19, 2025 at 1:16 PM
Hurriedly buying instruments and learning music so I can call my experimental baroque pop group ‘8-bit Owl’.
It’s an 8-bit owl compared to a proper and patient nature photo, but all I had was my phone, my torch, and my Sneakers slow walk through the leaf litter. Closing in and zooming out.

Saw an owl on this riverbank tree two years ago, so kept going back, with no luck until tonight.
November 18, 2025 at 8:22 PM
It’s an 8-bit owl compared to a proper and patient nature photo, but all I had was my phone, my torch, and my Sneakers slow walk through the leaf litter. Closing in and zooming out.

Saw an owl on this riverbank tree two years ago, so kept going back, with no luck until tonight.
November 18, 2025 at 8:17 PM
Creeped out again by the stocky shape in a field edge back garden I pass on my walk. Either a large man sits in the dark after work, looking out at the stars, or they’ve a pizza oven.
November 18, 2025 at 6:50 PM
Sam Lowry's beautifully damp commuter toast popped into my head.
November 18, 2025 at 4:49 PM
Sorry, I appear to have made this too believable for those not in the UK. No, we never had a Toast Men selling toast on the streets. I was a sort of riffing on the street seller song in Oliver!
Frozen morning and no bread in the house for toast. This is when I miss the old days when the Toast Man would be outside first thing, with his cart of sliced breads, shouting “Get Your Hot Buttered Toast”. And you’d rush out, choose a bread from the basket , and he’d brown it over an open flame.
November 18, 2025 at 4:30 PM
Frozen morning and no bread in the house for toast. This is when I miss the old days when the Toast Man would be outside first thing, with his cart of sliced breads, shouting “Get Your Hot Buttered Toast”. And you’d rush out, choose a bread from the basket , and he’d brown it over an open flame.
November 18, 2025 at 8:11 AM
Sunday night film - Midnight (1939). A delight to find a new screwball, and while the wheels almost come off by the end, it’s ridiculously funny and stupidly sexy.

Claudette Colbert has one of one finest entrances in film - a sleeping beauty glowing in a dingy railway carriage.
November 17, 2025 at 12:19 AM
Properly chilly for the first time this autumn.
In a coincidence this morning my mother sent over a photo of Aldeburgh in winter, 1971. This is the year nobody noticed my baby face had been swapped by fairies for features carved into a turnip.
November 16, 2025 at 4:11 PM
“ round up the usual marmalade suspects”
November 16, 2025 at 8:11 AM
My neighbour has both her sister’s and her father’s dogs staying overnight, so two of her cats are sheltering with us. They, like Bridget, are about to watch Peter Weir’s ‘Fearless’ for the first time.
November 15, 2025 at 8:18 PM