Using a dodgy phone camera, I’ve been photographing objects and moments during the last year or so of my travels. There’s an image of set of keys to a rented flat, an attempt at a home, towards the end of this set of pictures:
I’m in the flat now. I’ve been here on and off for two months and there is one month left. At the end of February, I’ll hand back the keys, bundle up the kitchen knives, throws and duvet and put them softly into a box.
I still can’t settle. More exploring needs to be done. There’s more to be felt, heard, seen, written. I just need to keep moving. Doors and walls and locks are all things which enclose or shut, after all. And there’s a big sky out there. Plenty of air to fly upwards in, once a direction of travel has been made clear.
Running towards, instead of running away. A change in direction.
The world is a big and small place.