For a while now I have been walking around with an idea for a new series of blog posts. As much as I intended to blog more this year it hasn’t really happened (because hey, life!) but maybe this series could help me share what I’m up to without stealing too much of my time to do other things.
Last year I stopped myself blogging about something quite a few times because I was in the middle of a project and wasn’t sure what format I would end up showing it in. I don’t have a problem with showing work-in-progress or something unfinished but I didn’t want to share anything prematurely if I wanted those projecs to be seen or engaged with in a different way.
For a few years now I have been walking around with an idea for a photo project that I planned to someday do at home. I would photograph the places I used to inhabit, the street where I grew up, the tunnel systems I used to travel through, my old school and the lake where I used to meet my friends. The project would be about photographing all the places that have now become memories, places that I only visit rather than live in. It was also the plan that these photos would sit next to photos of the streets and neighbourhoods I used to inhabit when I lived in London. A juxtaposition of those two cities that made me as a person.
But I haven’t been quick enough. I have taken too long to mull over the idea and now I’m not sure that anything will ever become of the project. You see, the problem is that those places have changed much faster than I have been able to capture them. My street at home in Denmark no longer looks like the street I left before I moved to England. Trees have been cut down and the front yards have almost all changed. The same has happened in London but at an even quicker pace. I went there just a week or two ago to do some test shoots in Bloomsbury for the project and realised that all the places I had written down on a list to photograph that hold strong memories for me, weren’t really the same places. New buildings keep popping up, destructing views that I have been fond of and new restaurants have taken the place of the ones I used to eat in. That neighbourhood that was mine simply isn’t there anymore. Not in the form that I knew it in anyway.
So I don’t know. Maybe this was never meant to be more than an idea written down in a notebook. Or maybe I will get back to it later and find a different approach to it. For now all I have are these test shots that I took with a disposable camera in the summer of 16 when I was still trying to capture my hometown.
I can’t believe Christmas and New Year is already over! Wasn’t it November just a moment ago? I had blog posts planned for November, then December but never found the time to hit the “publish” button between seeing friends, buying presents and working on my novel. Actually, I can’t believe it’s already been a year since I had my first English Christmas and wrote about it here on the blog.
This year I was back home in Denmark again but for the first time I got to share my Danish Christmas traditions with Daniel. I also got to experience what it’s like travelling with presents, not only for myself but also all the presents for Daniel and those we had bought for my family in England. Hint: It included two big suitcases, a cabin trolley, a camera bag and two handbags. It seemed like a lot for just 8 days but it was worth it to be able to give my family things they wouldn’t be able to get at home.
Christmas was really lovely but it all went so quickly! I got to show Daniel what a Danish Christmas consists of in my family:
It’s always a little bit scary to share your own traditions with someone else, not just because every family has their own but in my case also because the English and Danish traditions are so different from each other. If I’m being honest and I like to be honest on the blog, I had worried that Daniel wouldn’t like any of our food, that my family would struggle speaking English all the time and that Daniel would perhaps even get bored with the stuff we do in my family.
But in the end, I had nothing to worry about. Christmas was both good, lively and quiet. It was full of my favourite food, which as it turned out, Daniel liked too and the kind of Danish hygge with my family that always makes me feel home. And the best part of it? I got to share it all with Daniel.
I’m pretty sure that Daniel hasn’t been scared away and that we will be back again in two years, if nothing else for the duck, the gravy and that creamy, silky smooth rice porridge of my mum’s.