Stevie Cafferty bounds up to me on a wooded path just off the Cochno Road. He’s wearing a brown T-shirt with a Celtic knot motif that matches his brown eyes. There’s something of the urban shaman about Stevie – brimming with energy, he fires on all psychic cylinders as he gestures towards the surrounding outcrops, talking of the whereabouts of cup-and-ring marked stones in the area, stones he grew up with, chief among them the Cochno Stone.
For almost a year now I’ve travelled by bus, car, underground and on foot, cataloguing the oddest corners of Glasgow. I’ve climbed barbed wire fences, walked along the edges of motorways, staggered up hills with my camera kit and sheltered from the rain in more cemeteries than I care to remember. I’ve walked around housing schemes, visited parks and shopping malls, peed on sacred ground, in fields and in woods. I’ve set up my camera in places where murders and suicides have been committed, stood in disused buildings and at least one castle, followed the course of rivers and railway lines and watched twenty-storey buildings collapse before my eyes. I’ve looked at boulders, statues and signposts with the same curiosity, incomprehension and wonder.