An Index of Missing
I ventured into dead estates, properties vacated by residents recently moved into sheltered accommodation. I was curious to make photographs in their absence, in their last most personal space. I wondered if I could record a sense of their being, a memorial of their absence, through a portraiture of rooms.
What remains of a home? Evidence of frames, surfaces nicked and scratched, life imprints, pieces of ‘me’?
This led me to contemplate on the concept of home – something more than physical, where memory lies, where my children were born, a sense I am continually searching for, somewhere I no longer exist.
A moment of crisis – the discomforting truth that we are already ghosts in our homes.
We are haunted by a future that bears our death; ‘real’ time is yet to be possessed with the image of our absence but here we gaze at the tension of our invisible, disappeared selves.