Has anyone ever experienced the lack of hope, the sheer absence of hope in your life? I sincerely ‘hope’ not.
Recently, I came close. Temporarily. You know, the ‘normal’ modern things of life: I ran out of work and money, my relationship with the ‘love of my live’ came to an end, and I was thinking that I was seriously dying as well. Fear seized powered and oppressed all traces of hope. There was no substantial reason left to get up in the morning, I just couldn’t see the point.
What happens when you run out of zest for life? Hope sails away, that’s what happens. I can tell you, in retrospect.
Hope is the fuel of life. No matter how small or how big, undefined and incomprehensible; it’s what keeps us going, what makes us get up in the morning. We are nourished by the sun, a flock of snow, music, a tree, the movement of a woman. We are fed by a kind word, a caress, a painting of Picasso, the smile of our child. All of these things convey hope, they transmit hope, and they keep us going.
Photography is another ‘hope transmitter’. At least I think so. If you look at my images, the first thing you might see is melancholy perhaps, but my intention is to express simple beauty, and to send sparkles of hope.
Hope is preliminary. Hope is everything.