Entitled Mine, Fay's collection may at first glance seem to be comprised of altogether unrelated images, but the artist has revealed, "...they are images which have been seen through my eyes, and captured by my viewfinder. I play the game without rules, and when something strikes me as deeply familiar or bizarre beyond grasp - I shoot. My photographs are the outcome of an intensity fuelled by a mixture of optics, chemistry and my own mysterious needs. And the fusion of motivation and method, the combination of style and theme is just too intricate and too difficult to unravel. It is a secret - as though a film strip wished to remain a puzzle rather than a solution, a riddle rather than an answer - a toy."

Intrinsic to the photographs of Mine, is a centre of light surrounded by darker tones. Subjects poking from their shadowy hiding places uncover true secrets but are not borne of conscious design. What comes through is Fay's remarkable obsession with photography for both its science and its art. "Captured just before it vanishes, and locked in the mysterious darkness of the camera, the image becomes mine. A glimpse of life seen through light has been selected and reduced to a transparent square, and a bit of immense universe seems to have become easier to store. Perhaps it is my dream to possess a perfectly arranged miniature world of my own, always at my command."

Speaking of Mine in 1984, "Mine is a universe which can consist of: a sewing box; a leaf in Puerto Rico; an open kitchen drawer. Mine are snow and rain and a moon over a rooftop, or a barn isolated from the landscape by fog; roses - their petals wide open, hollyhocks, dendelion puffs, cauliflower; mushrooms or weeping willows swinging thousands of leaves over a little white bench. Mine too are film squares of faces that have passed through my life: of my brothers walking with me through Yorkshire moors - through rocks, heather and grazing sheep. And especially, Mine are Stefan and my two daughters, Jani and Ann and their children."

"Should a disaster occur or should another war force me to part with these films again, they would not be lost; they have become part of me. Now, when I think about picture taking, I feel it is a great circular process; of unending cycles of opposites moving toward completion - of reality and fantasy, of good and evil, of heat and frost, of rest and motion. A voyage toward that meeting place between imagination and knowledge which is arrived at by diminishing large things and enlarging small ones, and which I hope to make mine."