12th January 2015
I have a box of photographs, mostly family pictures, or from my time at college when I was briefly someone’s muse. It’s been years since anyone took a photograph of me. I don’t give in to nostalgia easily, but I do sometimes take the box out and lay the photos out around me while I paint. The strangest thing…I have had the sense for a while that every time I do this there are photos in the box that were not there before, snapshots of moments I don’t remember being photographed at all. Until today I put it down to my bad memory, but tonight there is a photo that I know cannot be. It is of me and my sister, down at Grand Union, it’s twilight. I know that this photograph was never taken, it simply cannot exist. And yet here it is in my hand like a still from the movie of my life.
Four of them came tonight, it’s never been so many before, so I know it’s serious, they interrupt my dreaming.