After my grandma died this summer, it made me realise that I hadn't felt the pain of losing someone properly before, although admittedly not the same extent as my mum and granddad. The loss to the family is ever present, especially when looking through family albums. This has provided me an opportunity to better understand Roland Barthes writings in Camera Lucida. While photographs are used to preserve moments in time due to our failing memory, they also act as reminders to the lost and absent. These photographs and memories are precious, but for some reason I end up destroying them in my art practice while rescuing them in my spare time on Photoshop. I think it's safe to say that there is some irony there. Here's some recent experimentation:
