Luke Parker - Like Lightning
Some friendships are like lightning, a brilliant jolt of expelling energy—intense, unsustainable—succeeded by a ghost on the retina.
These images document the received half of a two-way posted exchange, undertaken in the flash-point of such a friendship. The postcards are made of photographs and found and collected scraps. Sent over 2 years, in the analogue/digital crosspoint of the mid-‘90s, they encapsulate a nostalgia for old technologies, collapsing them together with new ones. They were not our primary way of communicating—we lived nearby—but rather a gift-exchange, an alternative form of poetic and aesthetic engagement.
I don’t have my side of the correspondence, nor any documentation or memory of it. But this received half mirrors what I must have sent—a confluence of shared references. I recognise in this exchange the seeds of my subsequent practice: bricolage—usually photo-based—utilising found images and readymade surfaces as palimpsests to inscribe.
I don’t know what these images may generate for other people looking at them. For me, they are tektites: the residue of the impact, reverberating after-images from a distance of 20 years.
*For privacy, I have redacted sections of the works that may identify their maker.