I have this concept that I want to explore. We used to live partly in this analogue memory space. We tried to hold on to the past with albums of prints. We’d take Polaroids to prove that things were real. But the shininess and noise** of digital enticed us away. Now we are trapped by our images. The digital image is devouring out actual experiences, tweet by tweet, like by like, blog post by blog post.
There’s nothing left in in an analogue space. It’s a void, and yet it is full of all the filminess* that we could never see when it was full of us.
I’ve been going back into analogue space. First with a Holga, just a little way. Further still with pinhole and polaroid. Now I’ve crossed the event horizon, with my tins and boxes and pins and hammers and glue and marbles and film and blu tack and glass and tape.
It’s a big place. You can get lost in here.