I take photographs the same as everyone else, on holiday, on day trips, of friends and family. These photographs for the most part I never look at, but there are some that are just for me. These are the ones I always go back to. I want to see if I can figure out what they are saying to me. There importance lies in their unique voice and that I don’t understand them.

A series of statements as questions.

I have to be in the present when I create a photograph and it records a past that doesn’t exist, except in my memory.

Following on from that, my memory is created by the photograph and as such is suspect or at least open to discussion of what is happening when connecting disparate views.

Searching for a more fundamental vision of us, one where we get back to where we came from, recognise the now as our destinantion.

Are we being so conditioned that we can’t immediately see the now (truth) as apposed to what is figurativley a construction or cut out, showing us what we ideally should be.

Everything is connected with a truthful reading of the now.

Am I in the process of backing up my memory of non existent stuff.

Do I have these as conscious thought processes while creating a view ‘taking a photograph’ NO, I have nothing going on.

I am inexplicably drawn to fair ground rides, their stripped down to essentials examples such as the tubular metal minimalist incarnation to those in the most elaborate forms. These for me, promise something, an escape from your unconsciousness to another which is full of visceral emotions.