NOTHING EVER HAPPENS

NOTHING EVER HAPPENS

TEXT

C-type prints, various dimensions, 2009.

I see the ultimate contradiction in everything that I find:

“In all of what we have created there is an immense beauty,
yet in all that we have changed to reach this point; was just that”

What I struggle with is that everything excites me, cities, supermarkets, roads, dirt, rubbish, car parks, advertising, people, deforestation, excavation, fires, floods and violence. All of these things can be beautiful, yet I see the damage; the pain the obscenity of everything. When I am in the city, I long for the country the open space around me, yet in the city I enjoy all that goes on around me. I think ultimately we cannot change or go back on anything we have done to the planet, criticising all that we have now is no longer the answer.

“Everywhere is the same” when you remove the fascination of the foreign, and the distance of language. I find boredom, and the pressure of cultural expectations, catalysis too many of the destructive tendencies in worldwide western culture. Each person, place or thing a fictional beginning; with the same ultimate ending. So I celebrate its beauty in this way, yet I quietly contradict in every image as I undoubtedly will continue in life.