Back in our Motherland
Cheers guys!
First we try to "sort out" the massive overload in our heads for which we haven't had time for yet, then "start picking up the better pieces" - hopefully something will be put together.
Being back hasn't been quite like we expected. Instead of just relaxing for a week, doing nothing, we have been busy washing and arranging our smelly, worn stuff, meeting people and dealing with media. And trying to grasp the reality - what is what, what is different, and what we see as different.
Somehow it happened that we went to a local shopping centre. A big one. It had grown double as big as it was back when we left - where is the much talked recession, if the parking lot is full of cars? The blazing artificial lights, shelves packed with stuff that we do not really need, people pushing their carts not really knowing what they are looking for… Quarter of an hour was enough for us to end up completely drained and confused, ready to get out of there and to never look back. Where are we heading with all this multitude of choice, increasing comforts (which very often are nothing more than marketing talk)? Buying a new phone even though the old one is fully functional, buying a new dress even though there are too many clothes already to fit into your closet, buying that gadget from the TV-shop that is supposed to be ultra useful but nevertheless you only use it once, maybe twice… It can't go on forever, consumerism is soon destined come to the limit. We ourselves prefer to go to small village shops that only have the basics but a much more personal approach.
As said before, there hasn't been much rest for us back at home, so to get our brains aired a bit, we decided to use the last warm sun rays that Estonian autumn has to offer. We went for a ride, which probably was the last one this season, but it does not matter. Sitting on the bike and setting out on small roads through the fields and forests has always been a great stress relief for me. So I pushed the start button and got the low quality olis that we'd been running on since Mali warmed up for the last time before draining our trusty machine and putting it in hibernation mode. It is strange to think that it will take months before we can go for a ride again, whereas for the last three years it has been a matter of sitting on the bike and going where ever we like.
The ride was fabuluos - the stillness of Estonian autumn, the barely warm (well, a few plus degrees Celsius) air scrubbing your face while the wet, tangy smells, remnants of the gone by summer and the naked earth, damp piles of hay, the mist hanging above lakes and ponds emitting the sweet scent of the underwater life - all make you feel empty and whole at the same time. A balance that is hard to find elsewhere. A feeling of being home…
We took our good-old Pentax 67, which is almost as old as I am and the last roll of black & white film that had travelled with us since Oman, and the result was the following (who's curious: colour tone on each shot is created random by "fooling" the scanner by scanning b&w film as a colour film. All shot on a roll of Ilford SFX200 film that gives this semi-infrared feel):
The rolling landscapes of South-Estonia.
A pond in an abandoned estate.
Contemplating the cold waters.
We used to swim here…
Reflections.
Forest tracks.
Between the pine trees of our home village.
Wrinkled land.
Autumn reflections.
Cheers guys!
First we try to "sort out" the massive overload in our heads for which we haven't had time for yet, then "start picking up the better pieces" - hopefully something will be put together.
Being back hasn't been quite like we expected. Instead of just relaxing for a week, doing nothing, we have been busy washing and arranging our smelly, worn stuff, meeting people and dealing with media. And trying to grasp the reality - what is what, what is different, and what we see as different.
Somehow it happened that we went to a local shopping centre. A big one. It had grown double as big as it was back when we left - where is the much talked recession, if the parking lot is full of cars? The blazing artificial lights, shelves packed with stuff that we do not really need, people pushing their carts not really knowing what they are looking for… Quarter of an hour was enough for us to end up completely drained and confused, ready to get out of there and to never look back. Where are we heading with all this multitude of choice, increasing comforts (which very often are nothing more than marketing talk)? Buying a new phone even though the old one is fully functional, buying a new dress even though there are too many clothes already to fit into your closet, buying that gadget from the TV-shop that is supposed to be ultra useful but nevertheless you only use it once, maybe twice… It can't go on forever, consumerism is soon destined come to the limit. We ourselves prefer to go to small village shops that only have the basics but a much more personal approach.
As said before, there hasn't been much rest for us back at home, so to get our brains aired a bit, we decided to use the last warm sun rays that Estonian autumn has to offer. We went for a ride, which probably was the last one this season, but it does not matter. Sitting on the bike and setting out on small roads through the fields and forests has always been a great stress relief for me. So I pushed the start button and got the low quality olis that we'd been running on since Mali warmed up for the last time before draining our trusty machine and putting it in hibernation mode. It is strange to think that it will take months before we can go for a ride again, whereas for the last three years it has been a matter of sitting on the bike and going where ever we like.
The ride was fabuluos - the stillness of Estonian autumn, the barely warm (well, a few plus degrees Celsius) air scrubbing your face while the wet, tangy smells, remnants of the gone by summer and the naked earth, damp piles of hay, the mist hanging above lakes and ponds emitting the sweet scent of the underwater life - all make you feel empty and whole at the same time. A balance that is hard to find elsewhere. A feeling of being home…
We took our good-old Pentax 67, which is almost as old as I am and the last roll of black & white film that had travelled with us since Oman, and the result was the following (who's curious: colour tone on each shot is created random by "fooling" the scanner by scanning b&w film as a colour film. All shot on a roll of Ilford SFX200 film that gives this semi-infrared feel):
The rolling landscapes of South-Estonia.
A pond in an abandoned estate.
Contemplating the cold waters.
We used to swim here…
Reflections.
Forest tracks.
Between the pine trees of our home village.
Wrinkled land.
Autumn reflections.
