The Morning After
At first glance this may seem like anti-art; just an old scratched photo, the original clearly badly lit, and poorly shot.

For me the interest and the art is in the story, the ability to draw the observer into the narrative, to make them ask “why?”

In this case the wreckage of a party, the brilliant morning sunshine, the wistful gaze…

The picture also allows an insight to my writing process, which spirals out of a catalytic image: from here, for example, it would be a journey of the imagination to put together the sequence of dramtic, tragic, comedic, suspenseful events that put her on the window seat, on her own on the morning after.

Except in this case, of course, I know. I took the picture.

END

If you are interested in my storytelling look here

More memories from college collated here