Black Dog Empire
I'm loathe to indulge in angst-porn over what is, after all, just a set of photographs. Nonetheless, these pictures were shot at a time my belongings were in cardboard boxes and much of my conversation was with my cat. The wheels had fallen off and I was close to running on the fumes. Unless I could channel the pain outwards it would burrow itself inwards and puncture a hole that would be hard to heal.
This is photography as self-therapy and soothing; digitised dissonance and the hope that street photography can have the same redemptive healing power as Tamla Motown.