“Perhaps it’s that you can’t go back in time, but you can return to the scenes of a love, of a crime, of happiness, and of a fatal decision; the places are what remain, are what you can possess, are what is immortal. They become the tangible landscape of memory, the places that made you, and in some way you too become them. They are what you can possess and what in the end possesses you.” - Rebecca Solnit, A Field Guide to Getting Lost

I always wanted to be a painter, but was never very… “good”. When I embarked on a Photography A-Level it opened up a whole new way of seeing and creating. I started developing film in my kitchen in the summer of 2019, because it satisfies my need to control the whole process, but also because, conversely, there is space for human error. It is within this space that sometimes a more painterly result is found: distorted colours, mysterious scratches, air bells - along with many lost films.

Photographs become memories and memories become photographs and the edges between the two get blurred. This is a scrapbook of beautiful things I encountered and found extraordinary, and wanted to keep somehow.

For all print enquiries, please email claire@clairehuish.co.uk

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“the days have no numbers” is a line from Abacus by Fionn Regan, that I heard sampled on Bon Iver’s 00000 Million.