Rory P Brooks

Instagram: @rorypbrooks

On a baby pink background there are three irregular blobs, one baby blue, one a pastel sea green, and on a photo of a hand painting a blur of yellows, greens, blues, oranges, and pinks.

for you, on this day and every day yet to come

A photograph of the artist and his boyfriend, collaged together, and a photograph of deer sat on the grass in a park.

Weekend plans

A collage, with a black and white photo of a mountain range at sunset as the background. A person dives into a pool of water surrounded by rocks, the water merging into a dark cloudscape. There are two boxes of text, black on a grey background. The first reads: "It is heartbreaking to wait. (She starts to sob. I miss you.", the second: "It is so heartbreaking to wait. (She sighs.) I miss you.".

It is so heartbreaking to wait

A young man running from the camera, naked, atop a photograph of a volcanic crater filled with smoke. There is a square of mint green, all on a background of a dark brown gold


A photograph of a nude young man, by his hair and the quality of the image at least 70 years old, has been cut out and distorted and sits on a cloudscape of brilliant oranges and dark foreboding blues. A panel of colour, the same orange as the clouds, obscures his groin. In the background there's more distortion - figures, text, all imperceptible.

(I find myself thinking more and more about) movement

A selfie of the artist over a photograph of a bush with beautiful blue flowers. There is a text box which reads “I got my hair done, that’s the only cutting I’m capable of today sorry”

no work today

A screenshot of an iPhone note, which reads “
Photographs tell stories that can be put into words, but collages speak in languages I don’t think humans can fully understand. They are a dialogue between images, trading in individualised connotations and emotions in a way that distorts and clarifies in equal measure. Colours become sentiments, landscapes become half formed memories, gestures become desires without the need or capacity for direct translation. An image sits next to another image and they refract reality through the universes from whence they come.”

thoughts on my practice

A collage of textured papers, a forest green with a crosshatch, a soft lilac with long fibres, a grey with a distinct woodgrain pattern, and a wrinkled leather look teal.

there are things (2)

A black woman, in a full length black gown which comes up to her neck and down to her wrists, yields a knife as she walks across a blank wall in a black and white photograph at the centre of the collage. A photograph of an office building is behind her, and they both sit on a background of palm fronds. In a white box there is handwritten text which reads "there are things that you have done for which you must pay the price"

there are things that you have done of which you are wilfully ignorant

A digital collage, backed with a burnt gold texture. A square of peach, an image of rose heads discarded in clear water, and a cloud of pink smoke all sit behind a photograph of a woman's hands, emerging from an off white crepe dress blowing in the direction she's reaching, all charged with energy.

how I wish that you could touch me and take all this away

An image of two people, one shirtless, the other in a sheer black mini dress, sits next to a screenshot of Gillian Anderson as Dana Scully in The X Files, wearing a suit and dark sunglasses. The background is a picture of pink and blue dried flowers.

photos I liked on my phone

a black and white photograph of a midcentury brutalist room, with large triangular windows looking out to a mountainscape, positioned atop an overhead photograph of a river snaking through snow. In the bottom left corner is a screenshot of William Shatner as Captain Kirk in Stark Trek, wearing goggles.

mountain sketch

surrounded by a hot pink border, there is a photograph of a rose bush filled with flowers in shades of dusty pink and peach. Collaged atop this is a dramatic image of white roman busts, fading into blackness. Across the collage are scraps of handwritten words, reading "we were connected/beyond consciousness/and found each other/in each others' hands".

and then there was the time that you and I

On a golden chartreuse border, an overwhelmingly pink collage. There is a magenta satin curtain, draped heavily, behind an illustration of a skeleton backed by pink and orange flames. A grand baby pink room, with a pink marble column, is behind the torso of a man in an electric blue satin suit, holding a single white rose.

no place to hide

A background of dark black, shot with sparkles, is interrupted by a black and white photograph of people running on the roof of a building in New York, high above the city. That itself is interrupted by a square of yellow, which repeats above a cresting wave tucked behind the first photograph, blending into darkness.


a sepia photograph young man, nude, and reclining, is obscured by a bouquet of flowers whose shape suggest the continuity of his hips. Behind him there is a chasm opening onto a desert, all golden rocks and brilliant sunshine.

there are parts of you that I'm certain have always existed

A collage with a pink sunset background. On the left screenshot of a photograph of a tin of Cigarette Butt flavoured Pringles with a FaceTime image of the artist in the corner; on the right a photograph of the artist’s foot.

things that happened today

on a background image of a close up of bougainvillea leaves at dusk, a blonde woman, nude and in a 1950s style, looks bored. Her legs, cut off, are at right angles. The join, and her body, are obscured by a pink hued desert sunset over cacti.

today my mouth is a gateway to somewhere where things are different

In black and white, a woman's nude body is lit from above, the rest of her fading into darkness, as she swims towards a mountains cape. Atop these collaged images there is a colour photograph of a man's hairy buttocks and thighs, his equally hairy arm clutching his leg and covered in sparkling jewels.

(there's something about the way I feel) when the light touches me

On a vivid magenta background, there is a photomontage of a black and white lightning struck sky, a woman's mouth swathed in lilac gauze, and the torso of a young man in soaking wet, see through white shorts seen from behind. He is climbing over the woman's scarf into the sky.

just think of the cracks you've left behind you