Collected Moments of Survival

Held Against Time Charcoal on Canson Montval 300gsm 70cm x 90cm There are moments in the field that last only a few seconds. This was one of them. I had been watching the herd when I noticed this young zebra beginning to move away from its mother. Only a few steps. For a moment, it was on its own. There was something about that little body standing apart from the herd that caught my attention. I watched, and somehow managed to isolate it from everything around it. But it didn't last. A zebra this young is rarely far from its mother for long. Almost as quickly as it had ventured away, it was back beside her. Safe again. It made me think about how much of growing up begins with these tiny acts of independence. A few steps away. A moment of curiosity. The first small exploration of a world that, until now, has been experienced from close beside a mother. Then the return. There is no drama in it. Nothing has been overcome. Nothing remarkable has happened. And yet, watching that little ...

What Is Seen Is Never Whole Charcoal on Canson Montval 300gsm 70cm x 90cm This is probably my favourite image from the entire collection. I think it is because, every time I look at it, I see something slightly different. The first thing I notice is the eye. That gaze again. There is something about the way a zebra looks at you that is difficult to ignore. Even when almost none of the animal is visible, the gaze gives it an extraordinary presence. But then my eye moves away from the eye. I notice the small section of mane. And then the stripes. They begin to become something else. For a moment, I am no longer looking at the markings of a zebra. I am looking at lines and shapes that seem to create their own landscape. They rise and fall. They move across the page. They create hills and valleys, shadows and spaces. And yet, somehow, I never lose sight of the animal. This is something I find fascinating about photographing and drawing wildlife. We often think of a portrait as showing us t...

  At the Edge of Appearance Charcoal on Paper 70cm x 30cm Sometimes an image makes me look twice. And then again. This is one of those images. There isn't much to see at first. One eye. Part of a muzzle. A few strong lines of the zebra's markings. And yet there is no doubt what I am looking at. The rest of the animal is almost absent from the frame, but somehow I don't need to see it. My mind fills in what is missing. Perhaps that is what keeps drawing me back to this image. The more I look, the more I see. The lines become less like markings and more like a kind of visual landscape of their own. They lead my eye towards the eye of the animal, and suddenly I am aware of that gaze again. It is unmistakable. Even with so little of the animal revealed, there is a presence that feels complete. I think this is one of the things that fascinates me about photography. We often think that seeing more means understanding more. But sometimes the opposite is true. When something is onl...

Breath of the Earth Charcoal on paper 70cm x 90cm As a photographer, I have always been fascinated by dust. There is something about the way it changes an image — softening the landscape, catching the light, creating atmosphere where there was none a moment before. Some of my favourite photographs have happened because of dust. An animal appears through it and, for a few seconds, seems almost to emerge from mist. I had walked past this particular dust bowl many times. I knew it was there. I knew what the animals used it for. But I had never really stopped to think about what it might offer photographically. Then one day, a zebra dropped to the ground. Almost immediately, dust began to rise around it. I turned the lens towards it. Of course, I knew why the zebra was doing what it was doing. There was nothing unusual about the behaviour itself. But suddenly the ordinary became something else. The dust lifted around the animal, catching the light and softening the edges of its body. For a...