A TEMPORARY ALGORITHM

It is said that the process of photography is a kind of alchemy – not merely the manipulation of photochemical material, but the act of image-making itself: an attempt to grasp the fleeting, to capture something soul-like at a specific point in time.

I am, it seems, with this ongoing body of work, adding a second layer of inquiry to this process. I’m not just documenting the present; I am simultaneously scratching at its surface, reaching not just for a glimpse of the past,but trying to find a way back – to climb back into the past – through accessing and manipulating its encoded remnants, the transient data left behind.

(Admittedly, it is quite possible that I am informed by a certain poignancy, a hyper-nostalgia subconsciously designed to escape the present in some way – and perhaps that says more about me than the material I photograph). In some sense, the work becomes a kind of reincarnation – a partial reanimation of something lost, returning not in full, but as trace, vestige, a ghost in new form.

Bangkok – and especially Chinatown, where I’ve lived for more than two decades now – is saturated with layered energy of a very potent kind. The supernatural seeps into you: its patterns, its strange quiet, its vibrational pull, its uncanny cadence. Through persistence, chance, a gift of a moment, and then the editorial logic of image sequencing, I aim to communicate something of its gravity and resonance,