Dash Snow originally started taking photos when he was a yobbish teenager. Using his Polaroids as a diaristic record of the many ‘nights before’ he couldn’t remember, his snapshots piece together a fragmented portrait of peripheral existence. Filling in the voids of his blackouts, Snow’s photos broach the seedy and taboo with a dislocated intimacy. Suggesting a subplot of double-identity, Snow’s camera operates as a tool of psychological intervention. Creating a ‘memory bank’ through a lens, he becomes an observer of his own life, forging the personal as dissociative media experience. 

 Dash Snow died in a hotel in lower Manhattan. A New York Times article commented that Snow “met a junkie’s end but did so in a $325-a-night hotel room with an antique marble hearth.”