Photography for me is a way of forgetting, not of being admired or remembered. I use the medium therapeutically to expel emotional and psychological demons from my psyche. For this purpose photography provides me with a container for unorganized thought and allows me to continue a cerebral stability that would otherwise be impossible. The photographic frame envelops everything I mentally, consciously and subconsciously, process from the everyday to historical and fantastical thought. So in essence, photography for me is as much an art form as it is a waste disposal for psychic trauma, which sometimes, coincidentally, produces poetic results.
The photobooth is a prime example of this kind of psychic photography. This consumer-grade photographic technology offers me a semi-private space in which I may feel comfortable to act out unsocial behavior. The mechanism withholds technical control and chemically develops the photograph internally, allowing me to concentrate more on the expression and conception of an image than on its actual production. Most importantly, the photobooth camera is a machine that primarily records the space inside of itself, which metaphorically mirrors my creative and therapeutic practice.
A montage of ideas and memories fill the unfolding space of my grid-like photobooth images. These photographic strips are byproducts that seem to assemble a pseudo narrative with repeating symbols not unlike that of a dream. Even the historic quality of the photobooth print displaces it from present reality and further transforms its subjects into unreal icons of the imagination or yesteryear. After my thoughts have been converted into photographic representations, it is not until I have revealed and exhibited them to a public audience that I truly feel liberated from their volatility. This intimate engagement with my hidden memories has given me a better understanding on why it is important to forget.