Coming or going, you are never really ‘here’, but in a surreal space and time of ‘nowhere’. In-between. temporary, transitory…lost. Ephemeral, lonely, longing for home, or ‘arrival’. It is the opposite of what we strive for, as humans, permanency, security, immortality, meaning, mattering.

At the same time, these spaces can also be pause for thought, contemplation. Alone, sometimes lonely, sometimes peaceful. Reflective. Quiet. Solace. Informed also by film, music and emotion as ‘transitional’ fiction tools, the reflective surfaces & spaces make me question ‘what is reality?’ in that surreal space between departure and arrival. The lost highway.

The Lost Highway


Empire of the Clouds

Leave (it all behind)

Where the Streets have no Name 

In LImbo

Leave Home


Breakfast at Sweethearts

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