Collected Moments of Survival

The Gaze That Does Not Yield Charcoal on Paper 70cm x 90cm There was something different about the zebras that day. I had spent time watching them at the water, and what struck me was how intently they observed their surroundings. I was hidden from sight, so they could not see me. But they could see the camera. It was such a small change. A round glass disc where there had not been one before. Everything else was exactly as it usually was when they came to drink. The landscape was familiar. The water was where it should be. Nothing obvious had changed. And yet they noticed. Again and again, I watched them stop and look. Not dramatically. There was no sudden panic. Just an alertness that seemed almost disproportionate to the tiny alteration in their surroundings. They were watching the camera lens. And I began to wonder how much more closely they must observe the world than we do. We move through familiar places and very quickly stop seeing them. We know the road, the room, the view fro...

Beyond The Last Glance Charcoal on Paper 90cm x 70cm There is something about watching a wild animal move away from you that I find unexpectedly poignant. Perhaps it is because, as an observer, I am always aware that the encounter is temporary. I may have been sitting quietly for hours, watching the herd move around me, and then suddenly one animal turns and begins to walk away. There is an almost instinctive feeling that it might disappear forever. But of course, that is my story — not theirs. For the zebra, there is no sense of departure. Nothing has ended. It is simply moving on. It may be going towards water, back towards the herd, towards food, towards shelter. It may be responding to something I cannot see or hear. Whatever the reason, its life continues beyond the point at which I can see it. That distinction stayed with me when I made this drawing. I deliberately allowed much of the animal to disappear into the white space. There is enough of the body for us to understand that ...