in the midday silver
Beyond the pane
a glimmer,
barely perceived
yet still it draws my gaze.
A flickering in the midday silver.
A calling from me to you,
who is always leaving.
In the space of just a few short weeks in the Spring of 2024, I lost both my father and my brother, one was expected, the other not. This body of work was made soon after whilst on a residency in Italy, in the first week I had to fly home. The second funeral in as many months.
During this time, I threw myself into my writing and photography, trying to process everything and find my equilibrium. I was still reeling, trying to regain a foothold, to reassert myself in a world where I felt the walls were crumbling. But as I soon discovered, grief isn’t linear. There is no moment when you finally come to, get over it, work it all out and come through the other side. I’m still there, managing from one moment to the next, feeling everything just as keenly.
This project served as an antidote to the introspection and anguish that I was feeling. I began to look outside of myself again and reconnect with and find joy in, the beauty of the world around me.
When the world offers these glimmers, it demands we pay attention, drawing us outside of ourselves, and if only for a moment, we are healed, finding reconnection and meaning that allows us to once again, begin.
These images are printed as archive pigment prints, in editions of 3 at 16 x 20 and 5 at 8 x 10.
Printed on Awagami handmade Bizan paper..
Signed numbered and dated by the artist.
