This I remembered; I remembered the noise out in the street, the trains rattling by overhead above the studio, the cold dry smell of stone . My calloused hands, the holding of hammer and chisel, the dull thunk of their connection with stone . I remembered the intensity of patience , working stone , carving faces .

I didn't recognise this boy , I didn't remeber ever looking like that , I didn't remeber ever owning a suit of armour like that and I didn't remeber ever being photographed like that .