men and their garages

The route to a man's heart may well be through his stomach, but the route to his mind is in his garage...Somewhere! Perhaps it's tradition or some freudian self preservation hoarder psyche, but for our Fathers and Grandfathers it was the garden shed that was filled full of the detritus, memories, implements and general crap from their lives, with just enough room for an old knackered armchair, pipe smoking accoutrements and wood burning stove (sorry this was just my Father, God Rest Him).

But for the more modern man his mind is in his garage. This domain is filled with toys and mementoes, strategically positioned booze stashes and again, a level of general crap that is just too important to throw away..."Someday, I know I will need that 1942 Swedish Army Motorcycle Outriders Glove"…And so, the man and his garage full of old tellies and DVD players, motorbikes, golf clubs, car parts, tools, portable toilets, fridges, old shoes and booze, should be photographed for posterity.

Two of my initial studies of men and their garages are of DT and his detritus ridden garage (which we had great difficulty getting in) and JB and the room he has lived in for 18 months, lovingly restoring his Austin Healey (which blew up a week after it emerged from the garage, clearly not his fault.)

There is a contrast between these two garages, to give you a clue, rumour has it that John painted his floor the previous night! More studies are planned, watch this space and keep your eye on the blog.