Last summer when I was travelling in Taiwan, I made it a bit of a personal project to do a series of double exposure polaroids with my trusty Estella. The idea was to pair the human subject with something else on a common theme, to evoke an experience that both aspects of the picture embodied in different ways.
When layered together I often found them more compelling.
This series is called Waiting, and features the four photos that I think perform what I’m trying to get at in many different ways.
Sometimes waiting is a lighthouse, and the only hope we have is to pierce the habitual darkness with faithfulness, and backbone.
Sometimes waiting means swallowing and holding things within us, so that we can stay connected with what is far away, what is left behind, and what is being forgotten.
Waiting could also be a futile reach: a grasp at something too beautiful to understand, and too far away to ever succeed, but at least this way we look up.
Oftentimes waiting is a threshold of leaving and returning.
After all, we are always casting our shadow for someone else while we chase another person’s footsteps.