I am a survivor of the early experiments in parenting that gave 1980s children broad access to computer games. But the state-of-the-art Amiga 500 machine which we owned at the time bore little resemblance to today’s ninth-generation consoles. Blocky on-screen puddles with two white pixels for eyes were abstract monsters - but they appeared alive, I fought battles against them. These games involved a team effort between immature CPU and a child’s overclocked imagination which was always there to pick up the slack. The works here are the ghosts disturbed by an archaeological dig into these memories. The scenes are not inspired by any specific game: they are each an ensemble cast of many dusty hand-labelled floppy disks, channeled through a child's eyes then weathered by time. If it is difficult for you to determine if these creatures are fleshy or inorganic, remember their ancestors were stored in mere kilobytes of memory. Excavating these childhood impressions has been an ongoing source of inspiration throughout my practice.
