The story so far.
Birth, childhood, adulthood. Barcelona, Barcelona-Utrecht-Montreal, Montreal... Does the end take you back to the beginning? Sometimes. My father's journey ended that way, or at least what remained of him. Ashes. His end, ironically is what brought me back to my birth.
Dublin, December 1998 - I touched Shane MacGowan's voice. He now sang alongside Tom McManamon's banjo, Paul McGuinnes' guitar, Andy Ireland's drumbeat, Bob Dowling's bass, and Kieran Kiely's accordion and fiddle. Poetry. "Sneaking" in an old Nikon FM with a 50mm lens, I was determined to have this last forever.
And it did. I found a connection with music and photography. The following summer I sold my Bobby Orr rookie card for a flight to the London Fleadh. Shane had infected me, he had single handedly awakened my need to create art. Photography became my means of expression. It became "me", I felt comfortable. Like Shane, I now had a voice. One that spoke with it's silence.
That's how it all started. With Shane MacGowan. A few years later, my father's death contributed another dimension. That of identity and roots.
Dublin, December 1998 - I touched Shane MacGowan's voice. He now sang alongside Tom McManamon's banjo, Paul McGuinnes' guitar, Andy Ireland's drumbeat, Bob Dowling's bass, and Kieran Kiely's accordion and fiddle. Poetry. "Sneaking" in an old Nikon FM with a 50mm lens, I was determined to have this last forever.
And it did. I found a connection with music and photography. The following summer I sold my Bobby Orr rookie card for a flight to the London Fleadh. Shane had infected me, he had single handedly awakened my need to create art. Photography became my means of expression. It became "me", I felt comfortable. Like Shane, I now had a voice. One that spoke with it's silence.
That's how it all started. With Shane MacGowan. A few years later, my father's death contributed another dimension. That of identity and roots.