‘This kid went into the caravan and looked out at me. Does he look reflective? Sad? I think he is staring out of the window and seeing the world at his feet’
H
aving designed and built gardens all my life, I bought my first camera when I was 47. Photography gave me an opportunity to have conversations about myself through questioning others. I don’t just take some snaps and then go, I fully immerse myself in the lives of the friends I make. Who am I to speak on anybody’s behalf if I haven’t experienced what they have, myself?
I photograph where I live, in south Wales, because I know it better than anywhere else, but in this case I wanted to document a community I lived near but wasn’t part of. The body of work this picture is part of came about as a result of working with people who have been in and out of prison and become trapped in a cycle of incarceration, freedom then back to incarceration. I was wondering what draws them back to the place where they committed all their crimes.
I found a kind of tour guide who’d been released from prison after many, many years, though he’s since gone back inside. He became my friend. He took me around the estate where he lived. During that process, I met a guy who’d just “acquired” a plot of land – I’m using the word loosely. He had chickens, horses and ducks, and he’d just bought some young doves. He told me the most beautiful story, which became a big part of the thought process behind my work.
