Lisa Toboz

from the “dwell” series

When you write about a photograph you can start to imagine yourself behind the lens, in the photographer’s mind. With Lisa’s pictures I feel like she has stolen into my mind, into my memories. Do we all have a childhood place where our imaginations were born? She takes me to a house I last saw forty years ago. She steps from her Pittsburgh to my Swansea, she takes her present to my past, and at our closest we are a thin sliver of Polaroid.

In waking hours it is tough to remember a time and place free from worries and responsibility. I look at her series of Dwell images sprinkled with plastic glitter and magic powers, and I want to curl up in a silent cushioned cwtch, to hide away from reality. It is hard to face the here, the now, the adulting. But I know when evening comes her pictures will have invaded my subconscious. Tonight, I hope they will flavour my dreams.

Look at this little thing. An exploration of light and colour, a woman now, a little girl long ago; imagination is the power which binds humankind.



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