Ignoring everything my mum ever told me about the wisdom of picking things up in the street, a recent obsession of mine has been with the crushed and weathered cigarette packets I come across when out running — any excuse to stop. Strange how destruction and decay can often make objects far more interesting to look at, and in the case of these cigarette packets it’s hard to avoid the metaphor for what they do to the people who smoke them.
Posted by Simon
