“There is no perfection only life” M.K.

Photographs from July to December 2020

Writing about this moment is like trying to describe what summer feels like during a very long and cold winter. 
15 months of winter… and counting. 
Warm memories are now so distant it seems pointless, almost cruel to remember.
It only keeps getting colder with a few precious days of spring here and there. 

Quarantine.
Locked in this hotel room. A part of me looking forward to the end of this, part of me is enjoying it. This moment. I’m fully present in it, in this room. I’m very aware of the uniqueness of it all.
I’m alone. Nothing’s wrong. What really worries me is what awaits when this is over.

I’m sad thinking about how much beauty we’re missing out on, chasing fantasies. Distracted, enchanted, blinded… with this idea that every little thing needs to be perfect or else throw the whole damn thing away. Good is not good enough anymore. What a waste.
A teacher once told me, “I’m not perfect, and I don’t want to ever be, because something perfect is something finished, and we’re not done, we’re still going.”
So, can we please keep going, please?