‘a place to sleep’ might suggest no more than a frugal use of place; somewhere that satisfies our basic need for rest. Sleep might also suggest comfort and security that most of us come to associate with home. It might at the same time be morbid, reminding us of the inevitability of life and its end.
Held by circumstance, I photograph the place I have come to call home. A small, introverted dormitory town situated astride an ever-flowing River and the constant drone of the bypassing motorway.
The young, the old, and the middle-aged appear in my images consumed by their surroundings, isolation, and darkness never letting us truly in they perhaps reflect past, present, or future self.
As we leave childhood behind, our experience and position in the landscape changes. A place can become overshadowed by life beyond its borders. Although photographing in daylight, the darkness in the images may feel as dark as night and inform a psychological boundary that keeps me here and, by default, you there.
Having moved away a couple of times, each time I found myself being drawn back by circumstances beyond my control. The need for a place to sleep somehow has me back in these all too familiar surroundings.
Identifying with the agenda and demands of ‘place’. Each day I would circle its outer edge, each day knowing that the end of today’s walk is the beginning of tomorrow’s. I never truly move forward. I begin to realize this small town and many others like it has become the setting for an existence destined to repeat.
'a place to sleep'