Walking in the Future

I’m living in the past
But I’m walking in the future

The words belong to the great Jamaican master of paradox, Peter Tosh. They seem to embody the fate of these figures from the margins of the postcard universe. Excavated from the random traces of printers’ ink, digitised and processed, they retain their dignity as they stare destiny in the face. Transient images from early childhood to the resignation of old age mark the existence of lost identities and extend a glimmering resonance into the obscurity of the future. In their present form they are weightless, without physical dimension and entirely dependent on the continuity of the electricity supply.