Recently I have been rationalising my vast collection of photographs, sorting through some of my oldest albums and selecting only specific photos for a new pristine album spanning the first thirty years of my life. Whilst on the one hand you can find yourself wallowing in nostalgia and memories looking at old photos there’s also a sense of empowerment when you come to decide whether to jettison or retain, determining what you want for the future and with it the ability to appear to re-write history. I suppose when I move onto my digital collections, I’ll even be able to get the airbrush out! Except you can never rework the past, photographic memento or not it really happened. Still I don’t have to carry all the memories around with me forever and with time they do fade; a little bit like those photos I’ve found from the era when black and white Polaroid pictures were all the rage, some of which are now virtually blank glossy paper.