Human beings produce a lot of useless and often ugly crap. So when you come across something which is both functionally beautiful and aesthetically stimulating, it provides an interesting subject to photograph.
These images are part of a series detailing the working elements of a backstage management system at a theatre in Leicester. I have deliberately lost the clarity of purpose in order to focus on the images as visually abstract works.
Close your eyes. Back straight, arms relaxed. Start at the toes. It’s quite difficult to feel your toes without moving them. Are they really there? There’s one; the very tip of my little toe hardly pressing at all on the inside of my boot, but pressing nonetheless. My heel. I feel that. Even as I sit, weight supported on the train seat, I am aware of my heel. The innate pressure of gravity on my leg pushing out through the bottom of my foot. The floor. I am aware of the floor. Pushing upwards to meet my foot. Solid, so as to stop my foot from pushing down through it. The balance in the battle for up and down reaching its terminal velocity; a harmonious point of mutual agreement. Foot stops – floor stops. My leg. How did I not notice before, the cold breeze washing over my jeans, seeping through to my skin. That tingling feeling. Not cold, but almost pin and needley. What is that? It’s in my feet too a little. Is that always there? Knees. I’ve never noticed before how much they stick out when you sit down. My jeans feel tight across them; a second skin. Arms. Resting heavily on my thighs; another stopping point. Gravity pushing down on them like invisible hands. Chest. The constant rise and fall inevitable and expected. Unmanaged and unchecked. It just is. I just am. I am.
Damn. Missed my stop.