What we think is what we do.

What we do is who we are.

Knowledge is Information
Knowledge is information. Information gathered throughout our lifetime. From the first spark of existence to this very moment, information gathered from our outer self and inner self, from our real self and false self. Every conceivable bit of data is computed whether we realize it or not, whether we want it or not. Once it exposes itself to us, in whatever form, we become its keepers. It is then ours for ever.

Information is stored in our memory. That is where we go to find it, retrieve it and bring it back to the present. When we are done with it, it will find its way back to the past.

Without memory, everyday would be the same day, a day of empty moments, a day without meaning, a day followed by another empty meaningless day. You would remain in the same spot, a blank, in a state of nothingness. Eventually your nothingness would come to an end. Everything comes to an end, even nothingness.

Slaves to the Past
We are slaves to the past. We need it, we thrive on it. We constantly make the journey to the past seeking out information that will move us ahead. Countless trips, every second, of every moment, of every day.

This may all seem very elementary, but when was the last time you really thought about it. The truth of it is: everyday is filled with constant references from the past:

I can’t remember it exactly but…

Did you hear the one about…

Wait it will come to me….

What did you say happened…

Once upon a time…

The Present
The present as we speak, with every breath, with every hesitation, becomes the past. We live in the present for just a fleeting moment. All we think, say and do, moves to the past not the future. The future exists, only in our imagination. It is a hope, a wish and nothing more. It is a dream, that just when you think you have hold of it, slips by you into the past.

It is hard to image the inconceivable amount of information that whizzes by you on its way to the past. Some of it waits patiently for a chance to return again, others misplaced or lost forever, will never be heard from again.

My Photography
It is said that a picture is worth a thousand words, a gross miscalculation. If you don’t think so, try explaining to a blind man, what smoke is, how a bird flies, or what a sunset looks like. You can use a million words and you wouldn’t come close. Some things must be seen to be understood.

I see my photography as living fragments of time, captured on their way to the past. Moments of time I have stopped in their tracks, that I can not only keep for myself, but share with others. My photos are moments of time and that, if not captured, would be lost to the past, where they would be only imagined and never seen again.

My photos prove that there was a yesterday, and prove to people that they didn’t invent today. We are born from the past and we die in the past. The past is the only true time, a time that can prove it once was.

We are no more than an accumulation of our experiences, held together delicately by our memory. In the end, all we have left is our memories, so make good ones. No one can stop you from remembering, and what is more important, no one can stop you from dreaming.