Please Find Me
I hardly know where to start explaining this series. How about this:
these pictures are found Polaroids. They were all together in one damp, battered pack of SX-70 film. I've scanned them in the order they were in in the pack.
I actually heard of their existence two years ago, but it has taken me all this time to get hold of them. This is all I know: they were found in a broken-down old camper bus which had been rotting in a shed for who-knows-how-long. The owner of the house (and shed) was an old lady, who has since died. Nobody now knows whether the bus was hers or her son's or husband's. All we know is that she never got rid of it.
When the old lady died, the house was sold and the new owners offered the remains of the bus for sale online. A friend of a friend of mine restores old campers as a hobby and contacted the new owners. He picked up the camper bus and had it towed back to his place. He intended to take it apart and use any working bits as spare parts. As he was removing parts of the interior, he came across this pack of pictures. He wasn't sure what to make of them. At first, he found them merely curious. After a while, though, he began to find them increasingly creepy. He didn't like having them in the house but couldn't bring himself to get rid of them either. It was around this point that our mutual friend must have told me about them and I urged him to ask the camper restoring man to give them to me or at least get me a scan. Having heard a description from my friend (who hadn't actually seen them himself at this stage) I was intrigued. The camper-restoring guy had apparantly kept saying that there was something "off" about them that he couldn't put his finger on.
My friend at some later point did get hold of the pictures, but "forgot" to tell me about it. He kept them in the storage compartment of his car door for a while and didn't really think about them. Meanwhile, I more or less wrote them off and forgot about them.
Recently, my friend sold his car and found them when he was clearing his stuff out. He decided they were weird and somehow nasty he didn't want them. So finally, they are mine.