In this series I’ve tried to capture a feeling I remember from growing up, an emotional stirring when confronted with the vastness of nature.
The great and terrible irony of feeling at once powerfully alive and acutely aware that life is finite.
You stand in front of a doorway and measure yourself against it—maybe you have to duck to walk through; or you spread your fingers wide on a
small cot. In these spaces, you’re big, but the second you step outside your shelter, you’re intentionally changing your orientation. One step outside,
and you’re oriented against the immenseness.
Watching my niece on vacation in the Pyrenees, I can see her stirring. Facing infinite space and seeing her limitations; being wholly inspired by
the vastness and complexity of the wilderness, and terrified knowing there will never be enough time to experience it all.