This Is My Home
This book is about the frames I didn’t shoot, the moments that weren’t recorded, the skirts and the spiral. The nights that words cant explain and when I shoot a series of images to remind me that these things happen, to make that day worth note. Burning impressions into silver and dye for the simple act of writing a tale, a note no one else can decode. Permanently scarring a memory into gelatin. The silver that never was, rusted to green. Seeking saviour in the devil, your demon a bastard son and salvation at the end of some formed sand.
This book records a period of time through writing and images as honestly as I can do, to explain it further would be to defeat it.