every world heritage site, regardless of its location, belongs to us all.
i wonder, what if we replicated this idea on a smaller scale? what if each of us, regardless of our location, was given our own list of one (or few) things to preserve and pass on?
our heritage on earth is one and the same. so if we share the privilege, surely we should share the work?
all shots taken in the english city of bath, which was heritage listed in 1987.
monsoons that mature into magnolias
stones that grow like spines
oak that fossilises into opal
everything is just another incarnation of itself
our cells are not our own
our birth was before our blood
and when our breath leaves our lungs
we get to become the very air.
all photos taken at the natural history museum in london.
it dims my vision
and impairs my precision
it numbs my bones
and accentuates my unknowns
i can see
yet i am blind
like a mist descending on my mind
i have no thorns to prick
i have no spikes to scare
i have no wings to fly away
so how am i to protect myself
when i am both
predator and prey?
all photos taken at kew gardens in south west london on a grey wednesday.
i fantasise about someone i will never feel.
with but a whisper of my arrival, she retreats into the distance again.
i linger in her wake.
waiting. wishing.
she is precious. she is perfect. but she is only a promise.
if i listen, i can sometimes hear the plea of the present. faint, but faithful.
come back to me, she says, i'm right here.
only when you let go of the future is she one day all around.
sunday is sacred for me.
i have a series of little rituals that ground me for the week.
taking pictures is one of them.
it's like an invisible string that binds me to the present.
as my eyes skip around a space, my mind focuses, my breathing slows, and my lungs expand.
sundays are for still life.
these shots were taken at my aunt and uncle's home in barnes, london. they're renovating the whole place soon, so this was my way of honouring it before it disappears.