November and I, we don’t get along. Growing up in Denmark, November meant the most grey, the most gloomy and melancholic month of the year. Long-browned leaves fallen of the trees, leaving the branches naked and stark, no school holidays, nothing to look forward to except Christmas and an even colder January. Just endless, boring days of thick, grey clouds hanging over the world that would make me feel melancholic and restless. The days that held any kind of sunshine could be counted on just one, maybe two fingers.
Something has really happened to my photography since I got my Polaroid camera. Shooting with instant film has made me look at the world differently. I am much more aware of composition and of light; how strong it is, the direction it’s coming from, the shadows it leaves behind. It has made me see things that I would normally have overlooked or would have seen as too ordinary to photograph. And it has made me want to learn the old school art of taking photographs with analogue film cameras.
I have felt a little lost lately. I have been getting up in the morning, heading off on my commute, going to work, coming back home, eaten late dinners and gone to bed early, and I’ve been doing it all as if I wasn’t really here. I haven’t had a lot of time or energy to write, to go exploring or to photograph. It has just felt like an endless amount of days on repeat. Trying to get through one day only to have it replaced by another that looked exactly the same.