Lost socks is a collection of lost things. The world is full of lost things and I started taking photos of them all while out walking in the Lakes eons ago, which over years turned into an obsession. Sadly at the outset – and probably my best shots – digital cameras were not invented so the better ones will take a while to upload while I get them scanned.
It was a part of my grief rehabilitation process….bear with me…this is the ‘artist’s’ statement!
Before I sound like I’ve truly disappeared up my own proverbial, I was, simply, out walking when I saw this beautiful glove lying on the lake path overlooking Ullswater and I got really angry that someone had been so absent minded to have dropped it and not even noticed, not retraced their steps but just let it go.
I’ll never forget it – black with an almost ghost textured pattern. Then I was sick that they hadn’t dropped both gloves and I could as we say, liberate the pair!
Having been dumped days before I felt that I’d been this precious object of beauty (ha, ha, ha – five foot two and 13 stone – hhhmmmm – the woman’s delusional, but I was delusional at that low point) dropped and forgotten……..
Eight years on and it’s not about anything quite so deep – it’s a case of “Aha, there’s another one”. Invariably they’re gloves and it’s seasonal. Always more – understandably – over the winter walking months, and more often than not, somewhere divine up a fell or on a roadside in the Lakes.
I never move the articles, except once, when ironically, I’d dropped my own hat and in a classic example of hypocrisy, had not even noticed until I was unable to complete the circular route and retraced my own steps, where it was lying on the bridge!