When William Blake graffiti’d around his etching Laocoon and His Sons, the phrase “Art can never exist without naked beauty displayed” could he have possibly imagined the stripped nakedness of what is presented here? Could he have possibly understood from the mantle of his religious dogma, such beauty untether’d and untrammelled by the lack of imposition of boundary and meaning in today’s society? Does it matter? As much as one can pontificate upon what and where and even the possible why’s – what is left to us but the phrase and the implied meaning upon each individual’s interpretation and internal world?

In each photograph, there is a twist of agony. The agony of truth, which is that part of each subject, each tone, each hue that cannot lie and as such, is displayed, naked, raw, and because it exists as representation, is art.

There is a sense of anguish unspoken within each gentle frame and yet, in the same way, Zeus as a young man calls upon all that view him to love him, there is a naivety of youth and raw pickings that defy convention in each image, each breath of each second recorded for all to see.

Art lives within each image to be redefined, to be without cover or camouflage and to be asserted with each individual mind… an existence unchallenged.