untitled on Flickr.
7 days ago I left Northern Ireland. I schlepped my baggage* down from Portstewart on a voyage that has no defined end… Things more definite, however, are the results of capturing the meta-physical ephemera that composes my own personal photographic oeuvre. This week I took delivery of the latest batch of scans from my shooting. The heartbreak is constant - an entire, utterly irreplaceable roll of film is lost forever to camera malfunction… The surprise is constant - photos you took in a haze or hurry and had hitherto forgotten, heft themselves upon you and have you hailing back halcyon days.
I am on the road, and so last night I had the utter joy (read: total terror) of seeing my photos for the first time on a borrowed family computer with eager spectators who were expecting holiday snaps. I found myself trying to explain my photography… in an apologetic manner. The very best I could come up with was: “Light, feet, strangers, public transport.”
What I meant, of course, was:
- Light - that bounces off ideas, shines onto feelings, illuminates thoughts and obscures fears.
- Feet - that are exactly where they were when that photo was taken. Immutably so. A compulsion.
- Strangers - that I find myself staring at and my mind soaring in imagined vicarious, curious adventures.
- Public transport - where I simultaneously feel at home, adrift, awake, asleep, alone, surrounded.
I’m not ready to upload my photo-holiday to The UAE - but I am ready to seal with sutures the suppurating hole in my subconscious that is Northern Ireland. The single most surreal period in my life, to date, to that end I have created a tag and a link to encompass it. Good luck.