Diaries, the keeping of a record of one’s life, are the expression of feelings, of mood, the interpretation of situations, and recording of events. But my primary language is visual. I have a better memory for what something looks like, its colour and form, than I have for written names and factual data. I started keeping my scrap diaries as 2002 drew to an end. Surrounded by the drifts of paper, packaging, and cracker tit-bits from Christmas I was struck by the idea that a day can be conjured up by and contained within a single piece of ephemera. I have kept a scrap diary ever since. I construct the books from folded DL envelopes. Keeping these diaries has become a habit. And when I look back I can recall events, purchases, places, films, exhibitions and a particular day from those seemingly insignificant glued scraps. I also make extended holiday diaries with more than one entry per day.