When I was a teenager , my father worked as an electrician at a quarry in Mansfield Woodhouse. We moved house within the boundaries of the quarry and became caretakers of the site. I stumbled across photographs I had taken from the time and it reminded me of my relationship with the earth and obviously with my father. I remember the dust swirling around within the earth works, my father coming home from work with his overalls and boots covered in dust and oil from the machines he worked on. It is increasingly apparent how long this imagery of stratification has been with me.