Here is a slideshow of photographs that I took a while ago, in two cities where different chapters of my life unfolded. The theme was fragmentation in urban geography. I’m always inspired, affected, infected, impacted by place; there is almost a certain sense of symbiosis that I feel with my surroundings wherever I find myself, which is why my environment is so important to me, sometimes more so than people, and it often dictates how I feel. Of course, there are exceptions, it can also work the other way around, if there are other overpowering aspects in my life that induced a certain feeling or state whilst I existed in a particular space, then the feeling will haunt the place – if that state was depression for instance, then I probably imbued every corner with depression, it would colour my perception, and it might take a long time to no longer associate the geography of the place with the geography of my emotions at that particular time and to be able to return to the physical space without feeling the echoes, if I ever do return. Besides a depressive state, which is alienating in itself, perhaps even worse and more alienating, is the feeling of being trapped. I suppose because in some cases depression can constitute a bridge that invites empathy and connection if it isn’t also accompanied by feeling trapped, whereas very often feeling trapped is like existing within a soul-sucking veil, or indeed a bell jar, that makes you daydream about jumping off a bridge instead. The way I’m influenced by space is not always intuitive. I’ve always liked the aesthetics of fragmentation and decay within a landscape. One of my favourite adventures has always been exploring derelict factories, forsaken asylums, old Gothic mansions, ruins, and cemeteries. They have the opposite of a depressing effect on me.