I use photography as a way to express my love affair with sadness.
When I was young, my parents had a very bitter divorce which had a devastating effect on my soul.
For the longest time I found it impossible to express those feelings of loss. My catharsis is that I photograph in the shadow of my father’s absence.
As a young boy, I discovered the family photo album under my mum’s bed which, upon inspection, had my father’s head cut out of all the photos. This shocking discovery was never mentioned until after my mum’s death. I asked my sister if she had ever seen the album. She had. I was then told that after my sister had gone through my mum’s possessions, she had in fact found a little plastic bag which contained the cut-out heads. My life was predetermined. Photography is my love, my path to redemption.
The photographs presented here, with the addition of one entitled Dead Cat, come from the series Down in the Dumps, which I think of as a demo tape from an obscure black metal band. I don’t think I have anything more to say.

















