Driving into the unknown
the beginning of an ending?
“We are inhabiting the space between; leaving the familiar and entering the unfamiliar, yet not fully in either place”
I drove home from Uni today under a brooding grey-blue sky, wondering when I will be back. Finally, I had been able to meet with my personal tutor and we shared a coffee and sandwich- aware that we had to sit a bit further apart than we normally would; conscious that everything around us was changing globally and yet a lot still seemed the same. We are inhabiting the space between; leaving the familiar and entering the unfamiliar, yet not fully in either place. All the plans we discussed seemed to hang in the air; a visit to the museums in Edinburgh, ideas to meet curators, the chance to really begin to work together after finally connecting - would any of it be possible?
I made my way back to my desk, stopping to wash my hands on the way. The studio was silent, empty save for my lovely friend Maxim. Should I pack up everything and take it home? I need my workbooks but for some reason decided to leave two of my favourite photography books on my desk; a kind of silent pledge to return, I did not want to extinguish the hope that in the next few weeks we can return to normal; maybe be the anticipated lockdown will not happen….maybe I am dreaming.
Maybe I am not.
I tend to document life- the things that seem mundane, the overlooked in the rush to life, to work, to live, to create. I photograph those moments that are part of the process, those people around me, my MA peers. I am glad in this moment I have recorded instants during group crits, captured the colour and chaos of the fine art studio and the organization and order of com des. I offered to take a picture of Maxim by her work, unable to comprehend that the beautiful space she has created may be inaccessible soon. How is that possible? I walk through the studio spaces, inhabited by such variety with an undefined sadness, capturing the life that has been and I hope will continue.
Beautiful Maxim
“Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God ”
The drive home feels surreal, I sense an ending and a new beginning; neither is welcome but I don't fight it. I think of the words my cousin wrote on the eve of WW2. - he experienced a strange kind of excitement, completely unaware of what would come, how his life would change forever. It must have felt a little like this. We didn’t think in our day, in our lifetime our lives could be suddenly interrupted, that we would have no control. Why are we different than any other generation? I am driving home to safety. As I reach Fraserburgh the sun is setting; the sky is a beautiful painting of purples and pinks. I love this light.
I stop by the beach to take a photo; I have reached the path to the great unknown.
I stop by the beach to take a photo; I have reached the path to the great unknown.