Hundred: Morecambe


Two opposing realities. One, a reality of blustering winds, empty promenades and desolate decaying buildings. The other, a photographic reality. A breaking strip of blue in grey clouds – hope. Garish objects of a childhood that has been long forgotten, as the hovering spade desperately digs away at the gathering storm above. The interior and exterior of Morecambe mingle in a reflection that grasps at the memories of sunnier days lost. “‘So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”


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