I spent a day walking around Gili Meno, photographing and seeing what I could find. I stumbled upon a small, family cemetery along the side of the road, and stopped to make some photographs. Nothing special about the pictures, just seemed like an interesting little place. I made a couple of pictures, and then went on with the day. I didn’t photograph again for about 18 hours.
The next morning, I set off with the same routine, to wander the island and to try and make some pictures. I stopped to photograph a small path, and when I reached into my bag, my light meter was missing.
I went into a panic (I’ve been using the same light meter for about 15 years), and retraced my steps. After a little thought, I remember the last photographs I took the previous day were at the cemetery. It took a little persistence, but I found the little plot of land again. My light meter was by the side of the road, safe and sound.
Strangely, I found a little meaning or metaphor here too, something about life and rebirth, and faith in finding the right way.
Just 24 hours later, I was on a boat back to Bali. In the middle of the Bali sea, we were hit by a torrential rain storm. The waves were huge, and the boat rocked back and forth with great force.
But the storm didn’t last long. The seas settled down, and again I thought this a metaphor for life or consciousness – the flow, the crisis, the resolution.
Perhaps this all speaks to my own neurosis, or why I’ve chosen a life in photography, because I want to think the that the things and shapes around me can have meaning.