And so here it is..the moment you haven’t been waiting for..the big reveal as to what all the photographs over the last 3 weeks have in common which will now surely be highly anti-climatic as I’ve dragged it out for so long but anyway here goes..drum roll puh-leeease…
They actually don’t just have one thing in common. They are connected in a multitude of ways. They are bound together by location, time, technology, intention and they all very personal to me.
Firstly they were all taken within the same geographical space. More specifically within 600 steps of my flat. This is because at the time I literally couldn’t walk further than that in any direction. I would venture just once a day outside and shuffle around at a snail’s pace (literal not metaphorical). I have always taken most of my photos locally, especially in the last two years but these are all within a super specific area, namely how far I could get from my flat without tanking out.
Secondly they were all taken within the same 3 month period last year when I was probably at my worst physical state due to long covid and chronic fatigue.
Thirdly they were all taken on my iphone as this was also the first time in nearly 20 years that I had left home without my camera. I was too ill to focus on anything (no pun intended) so the last thing on my mind was taking photos and I was too weak even to have the added weight of the camera in my pocket. But I did have my phone on me because I was using it to count my steps so I didn’t go too far. For the record these are the first photos I have ever shared that were taken on a phone.
Fourthly (is that right?) these shots are all moments that I was unable ignore, moments that I felt I had to record, moments that I felt would disappear into the ether if I did not try and encapsulate them. And they all had a poignancy for me. Something that spoke to me. Maybe they mirrored how I was feeling, maybe they reminded me of a life I once had. Whatever it was, the feeling was strong, strong enough to penetrate how shit I felt and make me want to take a picture. Even in a dire state I still had a compulsion to document. And that they gave me hope as they all ignited a dim spark within my fogged up brain to show that I was still in there somewhere. The lights were still on..just, well, mebbe just one.
Fifthly (pretty sure that’s wrong too) they reminded me of photographs that I used to take. Inanimate objects. Abandoned toys. No people. Moments of apparent meaning amidst the chaos. Are these extraordinary photos? Not necessarily. Could the world have coped without their existence? Of course. But my need to capture them hopefully gives them resonance. And I realised recently (hence this series) if if I did not then share them and explain the story behind them there would have been no point in taking them in the first place.
I think ultimately photography is a futile attempt to preserve what is about to disintegrate. Everything passes and at some point evaporates forever and yet photography manages to slightly cheat death by keeping what should have disappeared visible and present. It’s basically black magic. Just as this presentation of these photos is an illusion because what you are looking at are just 0s and 1s. And yet my desperate gesture to save these moments from instant annihilation has succeeded in your observation of them, however fleeting…
Grant Morrison said: “All I’ve got to offer is that I am a witness to the events of my life.”
And maybe that’s all we can do…