Davin Youngs has got something sweet going on. His pictures, as he calls them, are the of-the-moment kind. Y’know, the spontaneous, romantic, stylised yet amateurish thing photographers are doing these days. Like American Apparel, but lost in the woods or asleep on the toilet. I really appreciate it. What I appreciate less is Davin’s written and photographic portraits of his relationships with his closest friends and family members. It’s a nice concept, but I just see it stumbling drunk into a bush of self indulgence.