My homeland, especially around the roads where I grew up, have become a series of visual and sensual memories, drifting in and out of focus as time elapses and distance is kept. When I return to revise these faithful recollections I find I am desperate to record them again and again, exploring my own past presence in the frame. Associating this type of action with nostalgia I am less likely to admit it is a revealing of a 'memento mori' but more a continual reliving and a romantic revision of what I recognize and even long for. I am then drawn to reconstruct the rather untidy structure of my memories in these ephemeral landscapes.
