If I were to write the story of these pictures it would be one of waiting. Of a moth so out of place yet totally at home in a dull parking lot. Waiting for its mate, or perhaps the sun to shine in a place it never will. Of a mother and daughter, sitting in town on plastic chairs, eating cheap biscuits and watching each other’s hair being braided. Of an anxious girl in a printing shop, waiting for her job interview to start. Nervously wringing the umbrella she is holding like she is wringing out stubborn, wet washing.
Of a girl, let’s call her Camilla, who travels a lot without going very far. Who sometimes feels like Pavlov’s dog on a hamster wheel. Who is not very sure of her own journey but whose heart gets made to feel like air in seeing others living their lives in beautiful ways. Whose whole Monday is made by seeing a moth, a mother and a daughter and a girl, waiting.