AN INSIGNIFICANT TRUTH
I find it easy to immerse myself in the solitude of remote locations. I am drawn to the sharp contrast between the permanence of place and the transience of humanity—how the enduring magnitude of the landscape exposes the brief insignificance of our visitation.
I remember this day and place well. The harshness struck me first, followed by the ghostly weight of a house in semi-ruin. It stood in silence, buffeted by a persistent cold breeze blowing across the rugged landscape. For a moment, I wondered about the lives of those who had once called this home.
THE INCOMPLETE SELF
a Portrait
on TRANSIENCE: I felt my own transience for the first time. Alongside it, an overwhelming insignificance—a shared finality. It was an awareness of just how defining the notion of “passing through” was to this lived life… from age 49
