These images were found for sale, anonymous and without a story in Melbourne’s eastern suburbs. They were purchased with the intention to create an archive of this photographer’s life, but it was soon clear that this would be impossible.

Photography itself excludes and selects which moments we get to remember. The moment something is given a frame, it is no longer a picture of the whole. Combined with inevitable loss of memory over time, we can never truly replicate a moment through the image.

This archive, then, is not a record of someone’s life. Rather, it is a celebration of mystery and an elevation of the everyday.