…laid to rest

Days before Christmas

Days before Christmas

I go inside and find Zoe’s father sitting by the window, staring at the sky. He does a little jump when I come in, as if I caught him by surprise, like he wasn’t expecting to see me there, standing in his lounge/dining room in the middle of the afternoon just a few days before Christmas. That’s OK. I wasn’t expecting it either.

The fish

Death of a Fish

The fish died last night, which is rather ironic given that he had survived three weeks without us, all alone in his bowl in the gloom with no-one to disturb his silent vigil.

The way out of the garden

Intimations of Mortality in a Garden

It’s always exciting to come back from a long trip and discover that the garden has gone slightly feral and, in our absence, has continued to grow more wildly and extravagantly than if we were here tending to it.

The Tickets

Each ticket is an entry point to the past. Admission is free.

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The Unknown Boys

A found photograph. A lost group of boys.

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The Elephants

I don’t collect elephants. They just seem to gather around me.

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Family ties

Family stories, lost and found.

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People

Places

Poetry

Relics

The remains

More remains...

Leftovers from elsewhere

Dead Real

The start of a long journey

Dead Things

Documenting death and decay in the neighbourhood

Dead Paper

Everything which would ordinarily go into the waste paper basket after use