S E L E C T E D   W O R K S   1 9 8 9  -  2 0 1 9

In 1992, on a remote Burmese mountain top with a beleaguered battle-weary unit of Karen guerrillas I got    high for thirty seconds on the complete absence of fear that rides with the knowledge of imminent death.

Death never came to me and the fear returned. Sixty odd years prior, the MONK who had laboured to build a pagoda on the peak of Sleeping DOG Mountain left and placed a curse on all who set foot there. I walked off that place of DEATH and dying dreams after twenty four hours and left my brave companions sleeping MEN WITH GUNS.

They gave the impression of being omnipresent in Asia, The Monks, Dogs, Death and Men With Guns; all fates inextricably yet inexplicably overlapped. Where there is one, another skirts your viewfinder and your mind's eye like a spectre.