My mind is always full of images of what is before me, what I have seen and what I might see, a series of montages, not side by side but layered one on top of another. It is an intense vivid collage, like the flickering of still images that creates a movie, except the pictures in my mind are not sequential. As I move through a scene, my eyes dart about taking in details, while my peripheral vision fills in the rest based on recent and previous experiences.

The series expresses this experience on substrates by using images taken at different times; photographs from the present, and related photos from the past. It expresses the unpresent present; we are both present and not present simultaneously.

We all inhabit this complexity without being conscious of how complex and lightning-fast these images pass through our minds. It all blends like a movie; we see each moment as the present, but we ignore the flickering that goes on to create this movie, the flickering in the mind. We accept the illusion without questioning it.
Although we are all in the present, not everything we see is in the present, nor is our mind in the present. Of the 150 megapixels of our vision, only six megapixels are focused on what is present. The rest of the 144 megapixels of what we think we are seeing is a combination of peripheral cues and recent and past memories. In other words, we are seeing very little of the present and a lot of past memories, some immediate and some distant. What my mind is seeing is mostly not in the immediate present, and my mind uses these images to think about what I will do in the future. So the images that flicker through our minds are also being constantly compared to other memories. These comparisons are partly a process of making sure we move forward safely, but mostly it is about being, achieving and creating.