What happens to the future once it is past. Once we have passed through the now, where do the tangible elements continue to exist?
We try to freeze it with the photographic image, to stop time, yet it all melts away. The memory becomes weak, time becomes distorted, places merge and the colours bleed.
All these places pictured here are part of the fabric of who I am, places I played as a child, cities I visited, views I gazed upon whilst dreaming of the future. I can see them all so clearly yet find it hard to separate them in my mind, I am left with a palette of undefined colours in a sea of dream like cognisance. I can only try to communicate their existence through colour mixed with nostaligia.
The titles, longitude and latitude, attempt to battle the transience inherent in life as it passes through linear time, to fix them to a point in space, an anchor for their existence. Ultimately they are reduced to numbers, a binary edict in the opus of decay and renewal.