I’ve taken to writing travel notes this past year. They often last only a moment, a photograph of words. I try my best to be both brief and yet poignant. It is an exercise in writing, and for someone like myself, the best possible way to catalog memory and time. I have learned I see things differently as soon as I move out of a moment, and I am interested in both points of view.
I only took one roll of film in Bali. I foolishly thought I would be able to buy more film there, which turned out to be false. To pair with these images I have dug out my travel notes. More than anything I wrote during my six solo weeks in Bali, these notes feel truest. They sound true to me in my remembering of my time there, of the place, of the person I was being, and why I went in the first place. They are time all sliced up, not fragmented exactly, but rather more like slides… Moments cut down to a molecular language level so one might be able to understand them through a microscope.