‘Hidden’ is a tantalising theme. It implies something out of sight, concealed, obscured. We might have a hint of its presence, a clue, a prompt. Once discovered it is no longer ‘hidden’.
I have chosen a photograph I took one Sunday in a park in Shanghai in 2007.
Amongst many astonishing recreations, I ‘discovered’ writing, no, painting poetry with a brush dipped in a pot of water on the hot tarmac pathway.
Passers by would read the poems as they were written before the characters dematerialised, hidden from view in the evaporation and lost for ever.