Photographer without a camera
January 6, 2020
January 6, 2020
A small church of grey brick behind
birches, just north of Stockholm, with a faint sunlight on its facade. A house
partly covered in plastic for renovation, on a barren hill with some patches of
snow in a bloody lovely light. A school's playground in the woods. A forever closed roadside Thai take away. An icy meadow with a mountain slope in
the background that has a strange gap in it. Boats covered for winter in a small harbour. A
reddish sea of dead ferns, like waves. Wetlands in the last of daylight.
It pains me to remember these mental frames, to never see them come to life. And I wonder, how will I remember this time, this place, these landscapes, if not by the pictures that were taken of them. I felt more confident about these unseen photographs than I usually do after a couple of weeks traveling. I knew they were good. And there will never be proof to the contrary, so these pictures will always be the best I've ever taken.
It pains me to remember these mental frames, to never see them come to life. And I wonder, how will I remember this time, this place, these landscapes, if not by the pictures that were taken of them. I felt more confident about these unseen photographs than I usually do after a couple of weeks traveling. I knew they were good. And there will never be proof to the contrary, so these pictures will always be the best I've ever taken.