The collection of photos, though seemingly mundane, tells a narrative of my own experience in time. More specifically, my aversion to acknowledging the passing of time. The story takes place in a spot I know all too well. This kitchen is where I find myself countless times throughout the day. But something special happens when the light leaks in. I am present and I am safe. I want to exist in the golden hour forever.
Without this beam of light, the days all seem to blend together. So this light is more than just the sun beaming down on me. It is consciousness in witnessing the great big world happening right here, right now. I can forget about the days worth of dishes stacked up in the sink and I don’t have to worry about the list of to dos graffitiing the face of the refrigerator. Tomorrow is none of my concern.
I’ll stay here in the golden hour where I know I am safe. I’ll hold as tight to him as I can. I’ll leave the flame lit, because I am terrified of the dark.
