What can I say? You broke our hearts last year. What we used to have (bountiful time) is gone; what we have now (scraps) is a poor imitation of the season we loved with a passion for nearly 11 years. We are trying to make the best of things, look at the bright side, make the most of what we are allowed, but it isn’t the same. The loss is still too near for either of us to really know how to handle it.
These photographs are from another summer. One in the past. One from the days when the last day of school felt like the opening of the gates of paradise: weeks upon weeks together to live to the fullest! I’m still not sure how to translate what our hearts long for into a timespan that gets counted out in days.
I had forgotten about this roll of film. I didn’t look at it besides to quickly scan it into my computer, and finding it again made me stop in my tracks. It’s Kono (Kolorkit 250, here’s an article I wrote a while back on them), part of a pack they graciously sent me to try out. This is one of the things that I love about film photography: somehow the quality of that emulsion managed to perfectly translate the feeling of a lost summer, buried in the past, buried in my heart, before I even knew it was something that I would miss. The film did that through the lens of a plastic Superheadz wide camera, with no control from me besides clicking the shutter. Then it sat back to wait.
Nostalgia is powerful but can be debilitating. I try to look at the past as something to learn from, a launching point, rather than a place to dwell. It doesn’t help a bit to long for things that you can’t get back. At least we have the memories, and the photographs.
So now we focus on the present, forging new paths, making new memories. Our time at the waterpark is very limited, but there are new roads to travel. And, like it says in one of our favorite picture books, “that is a story for another day.”