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history

Large Catholic family (tick). Shy (uh-huh). Likes to dress up and pretend to be other people (well, yes, now you mention it)...

Prep. My first ever school photo and they gave it to my parents for free because no matter how hard they tried they couldn't get me to smile. Either I was depressed from an early age, or I knew how to work the system. Truth is (according to legend) I had a front tooth out and didn't want it to show.

I don't have a great memory of what things were like when I was small. I remember endless, hot summer days and endless drawings of Disney cartoon characters. I don't remember talking much but I remember thinking alot. Growing up in a large family you don't have to say much, just keep out of people's way.

This shot is a great example of what the person sees through the instamatic viewfinder not lining up with the actual picture. All the photos from Mum's camera had a little space off to the right.

First Holy Communion. My brother Nick stands next to me. You can see how the viewfinder on Mum's Hanimex instamatic camera doesn't line up with the lens. We have years' worth of photos with a little extra space to the right. I'm glad the curtains have been so well captured though so that some pretentiously kitsch nightclub owners can get them to decorate the place, or am I talking them up...?

In the early nineties, it was clear I was losing the follicular battle, but winning in the 'I'm an artist, take me seriously' couture department. Mum, on the other hand...

Yes, I look like a starving waif from the Depression... some sort of war orphan (is it the way my parents dressed me? that hair-cut?). This was in fact the late 60s and I am doing what (so I've been told) I always did: kneeling, squinting and working the corners of my cotton shirts, shoving the material into my fingernails. I kind of look like I would be the kind of child that might need assistance goling to the toilet.

This is me doing an impression of my Dad drinking a cup of tea. The house I grew up in was not favoured by positive curtain choices. The good scissors can be seen on the far right, the electric knife scabbard on the far left, I wear beige and drink from some kind of pottery mug - early eighities, anyone?

Kakadu National Park 1987 touring with the Melbourne Uni Revue. Homemade 'hobbytex' Road Runner t-shirt. Still doing that thing with my fingers and cotton but it looks a bit dirty in those shorts.

No, not a deadly intense art/performance project... just my 1998 passport photo. I shaved my head clean (why? self-disgust?) and discovered my skin to be so pale as to be blue. Ghostly. Creepy.

paulmccarthy 2008-10