I have explored the suggested list for research but I have also been trying to find some other sources of inspiration.
I have since looked at Anna Fox, she has a number of images that appeal to me, Basingstoke is a series of colour images of Basingstoke in the 1980’s, she also includes captions alongside these photographs. The colours are quite saturated which is similar to my photographs for ‘Square mile’ and I have also considered the use of captions or thoughts alongside my final images. Other photographers I like that often use quite saturated images are Martin Parr and Tom Hunter both of which I have also looked at for inspiration.
There is a humour to Anna Fox’s work, in ‘My Mother’s Cupboards’ Anna combines photographs of her mothers neat and orderly cupboards with the rantings of her father. It transported me back to my childhood and how my mother kept everything in order and how my dad seemed to live in a parallel universe of not knowing where anything was kept in my mothers tidy cupboards but having his own peculiar ways and habits.
Keith Carters work in ‘From Uncertain to Blue’ has also interested me as he chose to only use one photo from each town on his 100 town road trip. It makes me wonder if I had to only choose one image instead of a possible 12 what would I settle on? Carter used lots of film so he did not just take one shot but many, therefore his final choice must have been very considered. His final choices sit seamlessly side by side as a cohesive collection in stark black and white. Each image represented a dot on his map which leads me to the thoughts surrounding Psychogeography.
As I travelled my local area revisiting childhood places I found that memories came flooding back to me, sounds, smells and feelings were also part of this process. To conjure my childhood I recalled the scent of freshly cut grass, the damp earthy smell by the river, the sound of laughter as we swam in the weir, the feeling of fear as I shuffled along the pipe, the itch of the flea darts on the back of my neck. The feel of the dock leaves soothing my nettle stings and the prick of my tears mixed with strong resolve when I fell off my bike. The stink of TCP and the sting of the cotton ball…
I almost feel as though I need to create a map documenting not only the sights but everything that goes with it. Perhaps this will be the text that I add to my final photos, a verbal scratch and sniff.