Two days before leaving for Sri Lanks & India I was told that my prostate cancer had returned.
The immediate consequence was that talks re the wonderfully named “salvage radiation therapy” would be held.
The short to medium term consequence was that mortality tables and survival percentages resumed their importance.
Several concepts for creating art works suddenly became less relevant, and were overwhelmed, at least in part, by my personal situation.
I’d already faced a cancer diagnosis a few years ago, which was confronting, messy, but in some ways straightforward. It was in my face, inescapeable, and demanded a esponse personally & artistically. There was a chance of death, but also a possibility of a cure.
This second return was different. Intellectually I knew that cancer never really leaves - it is inherently a part of your own body after all. But facing this reality was another thing.
This first series reflects notions of intrusion, of the unwanted, forcing or projecting itself into conciousness and the picture. Immersed in the streets of the sub-continent was an overt visual parallel. It is very hard to frame a classical, undisturbed, uncropped composition amongst a billion or so people with their own individual spaces and journeys.
So visually & emotionally one response was to just go with the flow. Imperfections should be acknowledged overtly.

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