I have long been disturbed by the compulsion people have to carve their names into trees. It seems a contradiction to enter a forest in order to get a way from it all only to put a knife to its bark. It seems like a tussle between reverence and violence that speaks more about the inability to distinguish  between the two, and an anthropocentric perception of ownership.  I took this photograph eight years ago and it reflects my first attempts to subvert linear forms of representation.  I was more interested in my reaction to what i saw rather than creating a photograph, and my way of expressing what i felt at the time was to click the shutter (after about an hour of setting up the camera).  

If I'm honest, I didn't really know why I was taking it at the time - collecting evidence, chronicling my outrage, a protest of some sort.  It's taking years for me to see it for what it is - a photograph articulating a paradox of behaviour, a photograph of a tree that is only perceptible as such once people examine the cuts in the bark.  To do so one has to look closer and maybe that was always the point.