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Øutlïer

I'm not trying to tell a story, I'm not trying to make a point, I'm not trying to show my skill with the artifice of photography. I'm just saying look, see, this IS...

Black Clough is a gorge on the southern flank of the Woodhead Pass. Its steepness isolates it from the managed boredom of the surrounding grouse moor. Deciduous trees line the stream as it tumbles down amongst the rocks. The tight confines give it an intimate and ever-changing character. I like its modest scale.

I move slowly up the clough, amongst the trees, the rocks, the chutes and the falls. I walk, see, think and be.  When I have my camera with me I may see something that I’m drawn to; I might take a picture. Not purpose-less but purpose-free. My process is an iterative discursion. I contemplate, refine, execute, review, repeat.

Then I put that moment aside, leave it gathering digital dust in the HDD basement until it's matured, been forgotten, changed. After a while, it can be months or even years; I bring it back up to the surface, and I process the images. Sometimes I am back in the moment. Sometimes it's a different experience and sometimes there's a mystery. Usually all three. Then I attempt to make a picture.