We live by a sequence of events; these lessons are both taught and learnt, they form the make-up of who we are over time. We leave these pieces of ourselves for others – they are never kept, never our own. What remains is only the endurance of the marks we leave on the world. For, in the end, it is the matter of time which will engulf everything else.

The word granite comes from the Latin granum, meaning grain: the leftovers of continuance. These landscapes, of the weathering of one of the biggest granite outcrops in the world, express the inevitable demise of all things as well as our inability to return these things back to their exact, original form. When a boulder disintegrates into grains of sand, it is impossible to return it, grain by grain, back into its exact original structure.

This instantiating expanse of ancient granite is where I mourn my father’s mental demise due to Alzheimer’s disease. It is also a land of optimistic clarity on the matter of memory and time, and continuity through change. It is a place for new ideas to enter into the grains of our future collective memory. Change is inevitable, and obliterating; this work denounces the passive endurance of fate by replacing it with an active attitude towards accelerating change. 

The In-between Spaces

This series of self-portraits contemplates the act of both forgetting and being forgotten. I am particularly interested in the notion of forgiving through the complicated mechanisms of memory loss.  It is a play on the fraise “forgive and forget”, and looks at the consequences of forgetting and then forgiving. 


The Continuum of Fixed Places

What remains when we leave our past behind? Surely memory does not simply atrophy – it endures in the silence of the separation from the spaces once frequented. This memory possesses no resilience to time. It lives on, fictitiously, within the quotidian; it becomes far removed from its original form to become something new.

For this series of ambrotypes, I returned after eighteen years to my childhood home in the ex-colonial stepping stone of a town, Gwanda. Since leaving, I have grown to demarcate this continually bigoted and still deeply divided mining town as a place before; a place and way of being that I am no longer assimilate with. This idea forms the conceptual framework used to examine the processes of memory formation and the development of ideals in a fluid agent in relation to a fixed place, time and domestic or cultural setting. This is expressed through unorthodox but subtle manipulations of a handcrafted photographic medium of which each step is consequential to another. These layers of annexed and annexing memories reveal visible alterations to an original memory. This allows a palpable differentiation between a contemporary reflection and the “first-hand” memory which rests, “unadorned”, in front of the camera.

It is in the spaces between that this work derives its force - the fleeting moments of incremental change which accumulate into the entirety of one’s current beliefs, disdains and ideologies today. Above all, the work is a comment on perception’s role in memory formation throughout time and influence; that is to say that no current memory is a truth, only our latest perception of that memory is falsely considered as truth. It is this memory alone, however, that we live by today. 

The Moon and The Moth

The Moon & The Moth is a play on the phrase "like a moth to a flame." Essentially with this work I am searching in the midsts of the irresistible even in the face of imminent incineration. This project aims to ask questions of our "irresistibles", and of our "imminent incineration". I'm interested in how, as humans who are separated from other animals by forethought, we can be so shortsighted - how we lie to ourselves and put off the thought of climate change to another day, to repeat. 

We are smarter than moths; we have actually made it to the moon, with great importance on efficiency I must add. So why can't we control our greed? Is it the wrong kind of intelligence we are using? How much control do we have over these "irresistibles"? What is keeping us so shortsighted?