The Sands of Time

I’m currently traveling back home from a month-long trip to Thailand, so my gear for this month’s project was very limited. It was all shot on 35mm film. It felt really good to get back to basics in more ways than just my photo gear.

The concept for this shoot came to me after a 3-day long meditation retreat learning from Buddhist monks. It got me thinking long and hard about my “why.” Why was I in Thailand? I thought I was seeking growth and expansion, but after 3 days stuck in my own head, I realized I was running away from things more than I was running towards anything.

It turns out that wherever you go, there you are. As one of the monks put it, “you can’t run from your shadow.” My heartache was an unwelcome travel companion even halfway across the world.

The same monk shared an experience of his own grief, and said that everything and everybody is lost to us either by death or by the sands of time. That phrase stuck with me. The inevitability of loss is uncomfortable to sit with, like alcohol in a wound—a painful sort of medicine.

When I came to Thailand, I knew that I was stuck in an unhealthy loop of longing for the past, wishing I could be the girl I used to be. While here, I’ve done a lot of reflecting and have attempted to let go of her so I can be more present with this version of myself. The accompanying words are photo scans of lines from my journal wrestling with that. I’m hoping this will be relatable to anyone who has grieved past versions of themselves that died with the people they lost to “death or the sands of time.”