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Solitude in Quarantine

A reflection on being alone with others in the world.

Nighttime moves us in mysterious ways.

As the sun goes down and darkness comes, everything just seems to become closer to what it really is - silence more silent, shapes clearer, light brighter, conversations deeper, humans more real. It wakes up the senses, it wakes up the soul.

The night turns our attention to what would otherwise be missed during the day. In the brightness of the daylight, we are too preoccupied with our daily activities, but once the sun sets and mind allays, all our senses come alive. The texture of the bricks of the old church in your neighbourhood, the curves and edges of the lamp posts you see on your way home, the gradient of the light that illuminates the pavement, the unusual glow the rain has caused to the grounds, the sound of people whispering, leaves rustling... The night brings clarity to our minds.

During my last few weeks of living in Perth as a student, I decided to walk down the memory lane and document everything that moved me. You may find that most of the subjects captured in this series hold a certain degree of historical importance in the larger scheme of things, but some are not. Sometimes my pictures do not describe grand places or things, and sometimes they are not grand pictures - but they mean something to me. 

Here's to the pitch black skies, the brisk wintry air, the moonlit melancholy and crisp nostalgia, and the truth that has no words. As Brassaï articulated, "If one day, the streets were as well lit as the interiors... the spell of the nocturnal city would be broken."

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