Pasang Surut

Photography 


Some weeks pass like a single extended day, some days remain etched in vivid detail, and others dissolve into a blur. Nothing seems to hold still for long. To me, memory feels like a living process, shaped continuously by the present.

I’ve found memories of the potted plants that Dad cares for at home in the changing scenery from the train after a long day. There is a similar feeling of familiarity and comfort in both; something quiet and constant. I’ve also found memories of the same potted plants when I’m sitting by the sea. Nothing in particular overlaps; perhaps it’s the same gentleness I feel in both places. Memories find their way back to me, though not always in the same way I once experienced them, or in the way I might expect to encounter them again. A recollection can resonate differently over time, taking on new emotional tones as it meets the present moment. Sometimes it arrives quietly, like a breeze passing through; something I’ve felt before, but somehow a little warmer or colder, or something I can’t quite put my finger on. Like the tide, these memories return and recede, again and again.

In this way, material image-making creates a kind of distance from the image itself. Its physical presence responds to what’s in front of it, while slowly drifting away from it’s initial form, like remembering a memory. It is shaped by the present, even as it moves further from when it first took place.