Image: Josephine Pugh
Describing the room, Pugh continues, “In one corner there was a rusty bird cage. Inside the bird cage there was a fragile, desiccated, dead bird. I could not get the picture of that bird out of my head for days, weeks. I could imagine the bird in that cage, alone, calling out through the day and into the night, finally starving to death. Left. Forgotten.” Pugh’s words and photographs paint a sad and lonely picture that borders on despair.