The Fairground

Some things stay with you forever. The bunting strung across a grey sky. The lights strung between poles. The smell of autumn leaves underfoot. And the carousel horse — magnificent, serious, going nowhere and everywhere at once.

This piece is a childhood memory made permanent. The fairground as it lives in the mind long after the fair has packed up and moved on — vivid in some places, soft and faded in others, but always there. The carousel horse at the centre is carved with an entire world of its own, a fair within a fair, as if the memory has layered itself over and over.

It keeps turning. It always does.