Every image has a story
Deep, deep down in amongst the undergrowth, thickness, darkness and lif…light.
The old die young but never lost, they stand and wait until new will pass… Waiting till rotting breeds new life and turns what was old into a… (pause)
Sanctuary and shelter new and old will give new stories to all both young and old.
Things moved fast, life didn’t change much, but there never seemed to be a moment to pause. There was always someone to chat to or laugh with, and you were always close to them, parked up next door or across the road. You could drive somewhere else, but inevitably someone would turn up and then play would resume.
The funniest times were when crews with children turned up, two little rat-bags running around the wild, covered in dirt, but beaming with smiles. It was great to see them play, their imaginations were alive, their toys broken but ingrained with evidence of many stories.
It made me think about our own family, maybe we were all just a bunch of big kids and moving fast wasn’t such a bad thing, maybe it kept our own imaginations alive.
Darkness was approaching, we had been on the road for 32hours, desperately seeking the sun. The journey had been long and in hindsight not too dramatic, but at that moment the patience levels were low and even the simplest of tasks, which kiosk to buy a celebratory beer from, had sparked conflict. We were tired.
As we took the first sips from the cold cans, a taste that in actual fact neither of us wanted, the smell of a pillow our only desire, the street lamps came on and there, under the yellow light, a child threw a basketball to his father. The ball slipped through his fingers and hit his chin, the child fell backwards laughing and his father raced over to wrestle with him. We were 100m down the road before I could see the outcome, but a smile crept across my face. We had made it.
Life From the Dirt 