The other evening, as the winter light faded and the darkness gathered round, twenty wild horses ran by, into the night. The energy was palpable, even through the double glazed window.
It was beautiful. Magical. I wanted to run with them, to enjoy that sense of freedom and belonging. To live in that fleeting moment.
In the morning I went out to look for the last of the winter wreaths. They’d all gone, but there was a faint rainbow in the sky and the smell of fabric conditioner in the air.
People were ringing in the new year – decorations and lights all gone, washing on, leaves and needles being swept.
Our wreath is still on the door, our lights are still up in the house. I want to make the most of them and the warmth and cheer that they bring.
I am more for celebrating the winter and finding ways to add light and enjoy the season. This Christmas we managed to avoid the greed and gluttony, and it was fabulous. I feel like we’ve been released into a beautiful world of genuine enjoyment and honest appreciation, of the season, and everything that goes with it. I call it the Midwinter Movement. I am not a hippy, or a Pagan.
The chickens started laying again on New Years Day, and with barely any warning we are back to business. My diary is filling up at a rate of knots and every phone call, email or meeting has been bringing something new and exciting.
Our Shutter Hub talks programme resumes this month, and although I’m not really looking forward to driving up and down the motorways and eating service station sandwiches, I am looking forward to meeting lots of new photographers and finding ways to help them develop their careers.
Later this month I’ll be delivering portfolio reviews for BSAA and Metro Imaging alongside photographer Dan Rubin and Wall Street Journal Photo Editor Dan Gaba. There are still tickets available here, if you know anyone who’d like to come along.
Then on January 20th I’m going to be on stage at the London Art Fair as part of a panel discussion on ‘Encouraging diversity in photography’ in association with PhotoVoice. That’s pretty exciting, and slightly daunting, because we all know there’s no telling what I will do – be it dropping curtseys, imitating small animals, pulling trucker horn-blowing impressions, or a bit of everything.
Oh, the suspense!
My wandering, as it often does, led me to the graveyard, where primroses were already beginning to bloom and a cheeky squirrel had abandoned his walnut hardhat and moss toupee on the top of a grave.
