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This is piecing the bones back together again to create an altogether alien skeleton far removed, ‘bones-apart’ from its former self. A deranged forensic archeology inside out & in reverse.

A photograph or frame is exploded. Shrapnel. Dispersion. Fragments. It is held together in what once enveloped X-Rays.
Fused together into this tentative form, this dark noise, these bones apart.

”I was forced to photograph my way forwards to see where I was walking, to decipher the turns, bends and obstacles in front of me in the pitch black corridor. ‘To photograph in order to see.’ To go further in where it’d be warmer. Where the clues lie dormant. Popping the flash with the camera’s shutter to provide light and unwittingly, unseeingly, photographing walls, piping, painted arrows, leading me further and further inwards. Recording this ‘unseeing’ on film. Indecisive decisively blind moments. Stutters forward. Strobe light. Illuminating the corridor for a splintered fraction of a second, and watching it disappear again as if drowning in the dark encroaching on all sides, from all directions, blackness seeps, the brief vision burnt into the retina and memorised for the next steps to be made. Directions. Photographs. More bones. Steps. Visions. Bones. No less or more important than photographing on expired film only to discover nothing has come out, not even traces, just visual static, but bones nonetheless, like ray fish or shark vertebrae, alien and opaquely transparent, ticker tape morse code from other constellations fossilised in cartilage. But they’re all there in the visual noise somewhere, in some reincarnated form, or standing like ghosts behind it, you just can’t see them - what was recorded by the camera has metamorphosed into a fog of luminescent specks like T.V inter channel static - a pile of unseen bones behind closed temple doors. Valid and vital.

You relinquish control.”