I make my pictures using the photographic medium; using digital and analogue cameras and processing.
My pictures use layers of abstraction to show the unseen; to highlight the beauty in everything, the mundane and the extraordinary equally.
Making images encourages me to look more closely and to look for longer; to better appreciate the world around me.
I want to challenge the viewer; make them think about what it would feel like to be there, encourage them to fill the spaces. I want to hint, imply and suggest not to show.
Shapes, colours and textures are more important to me than objects and views.
Beyond photography my influences come from an eclectic range of creative areas; art, writing, cinema and music.
Time passes: Greenwich Park during Lockdown
I’ve lived in Greenwich for nearly 25 years, so I call it home; one of the central features of the area is Greenwich park. It’s also the home of the Greenwich observatory, Greenwich Mean Time and the Greenwich Meridian.
Greenwich Park was once a hunting ground for Henry VIII, Queen Elizabeth played there as a child; the oldest tree is reputed to be 900 years old.
Time passes differently during lockdown, differently to normal, differently for each of us. When was your last holiday? When did you last see that friend? When will you next go to the cinema? When will you next get a haircut?
This project is about the passage of time before, during and after lockdown, with the park and the meridian as a backdrop, contrasting the longevity of the trees with the coming and going of people and the ephemeral nature of the flowers.
Although there has been a lot of bad news recently, I wanted to include the beauty of the flora and people enjoying leisure time in the park as well as the more sombre aspects of lockdown.
Its about time.
Its all about time.
Greenwich Mean Time.
Greenwich means time, the home of time.
Days pass during lockdown with no landmarks to remember them by, groundhog days repeating, repeating, repeating.
The Trees were there before us; the trees were there before lockdown.
The Trees saw the king hunting, sheltered the queen, saw the first planes, felt the first bombs, saw the courses for Olympic horses.
The park has been open all the time, immutable for everyone: the fitnessers and picnickers, the footballers and cricketers.
Flowers come and go quickly, transitory blazes of colour.
In the rose garden, 60,000 petals, one for each of those lost.
This will pass, normal will return, maybe even a better one than we left behind.
The trees will be there after lockdown; the trees will be there after us.