I believe in the power of the imagination to remake the world, to
release the truth within us, to hold back the night, to transcend
death, to charm motorways, to ingratiate ourselves with birds, to
enlist the confidences of madmen.
I believe in my own obsessions, in the beauty of the car crash, in the
peace of the submerged forest, in the excitements of the deserted
holiday beach, in the elegance of automobile graveyards, in the
mystery of multi-storey car parks, in the poetry of abandoned hotels.
I believe in the forgotten runways of Wake Island, pointing towards
the Pacifics of our imaginations.
I believe in the mysterious beauty of ...