Emma Hardy's pictures are a welcome escape from a murky Monday where it is a little bit cold, grey and meh. To me, they are celebration of life in all aspects. Family, solitude, childhood, art, friends and unexpected moments.
In the weekend I went back to my hometown of Feilding and visited my Grandma. She is tiny and frail from age and bone cancer. Taking morphine daily, her mind is fuddled as she speaks quietly, sighs and looks vaguely out into the distance. I miss her headstrong forthright former personality which at the time I took for granted. The inevitably of old age makes me sad and sometimes I get a bit frightened when I realise how quickly the days pass.
This said, some of us are not lucky enough to live so long. Among the unfortunate and unexpected was the sheep we hit on a long country straight during the weeked. It died instantly, a loud 'thunk' against the front of the car. Upon stopping we were met with a gory and sad sight on the side of the road, a very dead sheep. My father, a farmer, was emotionally immune and far more concerned about the state of his car. I stood on the side of road lamenting the ill fate of the dotty sheep who couldn't make it across the road on time. Now I can't get the bleating bundle of fluff out of my head. Travellers remorse!
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