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An evocative photograph from my deep past. Two friends – it's a measure of how long ago this is that I have forgotten their names – sitting on a bench somewhere in England and looking quite indifferent to my attempt to photograph them.

If I chose to, I could dip back into my journals and diaries from that time and give them both a name and a place. In a way though, it's more interesting to regard them through the thick fog of the past where only emotion accompanies the slender memories.

At one time I was close to both of them. We shared some tough emotional times and emerged changed for it, but the changes pushed me away. Not the first or last time that has happened – so many people seem to have entered and left my orbit over the years, and most are long gone. Is this a loss? Sometimes I feel so, but my life now, enriched by own family and my current circle of friends, feels complete. What has been lost is the person I was then.

If I removed those two young men from the photograph and placed myself there, as I was then, I might not feel that much more connected. I regard this as neither good nor bad. It's just the way it is.

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