Gleaning, Dreaming and Encountering Hyper Objects on the Way to Work.

You have now arrived on Car Park Beach – otherwise known as The Adelphi Car Park in Liverpool. Every day I walk from Liverpool Lime Street Station to my office, winding my way across this gravelly, beach-like scrap of space that washes up behind the Adelphi Hotel. Something about the grey, dusty shingle, the seagulls and the sound the stones make underfoot reminds me of other less urban beaches: as I walk, I adopt the same eyes-down vigilance as a beachcomber, scanning not for shells but fora different species of flotsam and jetsam, things dropped from pockets and car-doors, or just deposited by the wind that whips around the neighbouring buildings.

For the past couple of years I have been picking up objects and images on my way to work: waste matter that has begun to mutate. I collect small broken things that have been pock marked by the swash of the wind and rain, ground under car tyres, bleached by the sun. Some of these objects end up in a cabinet in my office, some end up as photos on my phone.