Sweethearts, and the series to which it belongs, See Candy, take their inspiration from the visual cacophony emanating from the average candy section of the average supermarket. My own reaction is to vacillate between an almost childlike wonder at the sheer vibrancy of all the brightly coloured packaging, drinking in the sensory overload, and a more grown-up mode of cynical detachment, a learned defense against our media-saturated environment. In the same way, I think of these pictures as fluctuating between wild amplification and savvy distillation, between hysteria and self-control. Contained, or constrained, within the stability of the square format, each picture, derived from a photograph of an individual wrapper, describes the surprising number of variations in colour and tone that occur across a crinkled surface. Just as a white wall is never truly monotone, so too the limited and often crude palette of a candy wrapper expands massively once it is allowed to interact with the real world of light, shade and reflection. It is in this sense that I view See Candy as a metaphor for my belief that even the dumbest and ugliest things contain kernels of intelligence and beauty. It's all about finding a way to crack the nut.