Moving from one place to another, as a tourist in the forces empowered by the fuel in different means of transport, showed me that loneliness can be even a very fast feeling. I have moved from Bucharest to Heathrow, from Heathrow to London, from London to Bristol, from Bristol to Cardiff and return.
All by myself.
However, loneliness as a form of living is a painful thing. I have recently read a study showing that the real wealth of people are interhuman relationships and I have also recently debated upon it. For sure I wouldn’t have been on this side of the barricade a few years ago when my ego was big enough to be fed with bullshit like “money matters most“.
Maybe I’m travel sick or maybe my anxieties (plane, distance from home, fear of unknown etc.) are in a very big number for a single human being, but moving from place to place, on different means of transport, gave me time and availability to think about it all. I felt lonely, I felt somehow abandoned and I felt like I abandoned dear ones. I kept thinking about how far away I am from my family and how hard I would be able to do anything if anything happens, remotely from where I am.
I guess humans are not meant to be alone and the interactions between each and every one of us are very important. We construct our own personalities based on the relations we develop since we are infants and in time we become addicted to them. Unless we are born and left alone in the jungle, for the wolves to take care of us, we are social beings.
I find loneliness in old people one of the most gruesome forms this emotion can take. Only to think about being old and lonely hurts more than young and dead. Experience is the power that drives loneliness to new heights. I consider that an old man had a lot of connections that in time are lost, leaving the surviving individual alone, in a world that never stops changing, in the face of adaptiveness. Facing old age all alone seems like Hell.
Taking a lot of pictures I hit frames with humans. That’s a fact. I can’t do anything about it. Rarely I manage to take “human free picture”. Practically I have to run to hidden places in order to take the humans out. So loneliness is part of the thing I have to deal with while sorting and developing (in Lightroom of course, not the real thing) the majority of my photos. At least that’s what some of the pictures (or the story behind them) tell me. That’s what the humans in them inspire to me.
Who’s going to believe you that you are lonely?
You can’t really complain about it. What words would you use in order to express that feeling?
You can’t really show it. Only the most emphatic of people could detect loneliness on your face. How would you photograph it?
Looking back on the pictures that I took, either during the car’s movement (that’s why the focus is sometimes “damaged“), either during my strolls with my faithful camera around my neck, I feel some sort of guilt for snapping photos of bad emotions I can’t heal at all. “It’s not my business…” I use to say. The first thing that I do, before lending a hand to a lonely face, is putting the camera to my eye and trying to capture that soulless expression.