Who? You tell me. I'm just finding out.
I fell in in love with old engines.
Didn't see it coming - don't know where it came from.
But the the light at the end of the tunnel really did turn out to be oncoming traffic. Which oddly, really did turn out to be a good thing.
Why I do what I do is a question I've trouble answering. The best I can tell you is that it's something to do with 'man and mechanism'. It's something to do with the art and the beauty of the unlikely truth that is the precision that mankind can achieve.
Because humans are so well, messy - we are such scribbles. We're held together with luck, spit and gaffer tape, yet we make these impossibly beautiful, precise devices.
We breath life into these remarkable objects; we put part of ourselves in their existence; we make them extant. Then we push them to their limits; live them; love them; break them; fix them; restore them and live them again. And again. And again.
Rinse and repeat - astonishing. Improbable.
When I look at these engines, these machines - I see evolution.
I see their preservation, their perpetuation as a noble pursuit - not a privileged indulgence . They are the evidence of how our species became and continues to become. These engines and engineering have paved our way and mapped the journey. Peeling off each layer of development, like an archeologist excavates a site, we find treasures to prove who we've been. Treasures that prove how, what and why we are. So I feel that these beautiful vehicles are worth keeping alive.
To fly and to drive.
So, we won't have to dig.
So I take pictures. Not a profound contribution. But I will keep what I can safe.
I can't help it. I just fell in love with old engines.
And anyway - for the most part, Its simple -
...they make me smile.
BP April 2016