He was asked where he felt at ‘home’
A smile and a wince
I grew up not far from here in a small town.
I immediately moved out when I came home from travels.
Not generations but mentalities
A disconnect from those who had returned
I want to be in an urban space, where it is dynamic and social.
The French ritual of Saturday market is one which continues to prevail, particularly in the countryside. It is a day, of not only getting fresh produce and browsing wares, but also engaging with one’s community, observing who’s around, discovering what’s new and sharing updates with neighbours, farmers and local businesses.
She who cries
with wailing baby
Remembers how she was once
Looking at others
It is the ‘othering’ that remains at the heart of our problems, our conflicts
This takes place not in faraway places but at home
In our own families
How do we overcome the fear that we have of those we do not (think we) understand?
We too are different
Shades of red. Signs of privilege. Protection and safety.
We stand on balconies, inhaling deep realisations of what we want and do not want.
We are sheltered. And yet this suffocates us.
A birthday party in Madrid
Photographic evidence of the Hungarian’s white shirted shoulder and his left ear
Neither meant to make an impression.
The Italian who left for surgery in Cairo,
would flee to Rome in the midst of the Arab Spring.
Hands shaken above large desks
Never to un-meet again.
the right timing