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.

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