Musings

Perhaps the only thing worth anything are thoughts and memories, sketches of the consciousness – certainly not worth much economically, but worth recording, even for myself and the very few people whom they might interest. It follows then that writing is one way of translating and recording these thoughts and impressions.

I didn’t see many bicycles in my time in Korea. The severe congestion, combined with air pollution didn’t make it a safe proposition.

And yet, this image has two bikes in the frame. The image doesn’t seem to be Korea to me. The mature trees on the street; the architecture; the lush green within th...

There was almost always that feeling of things not being right, an unsettling sensation that meant the present moment was uncomfortable and a source of agitation. The feeling was there in the background, always. It emerged in the pauses in life, and especially during those times when it was possible...

A photograph can in some cases insert itself as a memory. The saturation of photographs in my lifetime – particularly family photographs – sometimes blurred the line between the remembered moment (images) and photographs captured in proximity to its time and place. I know I’m not alone in this exper...

One of the hardest things about his understanding of the human experience was constant and subtle rejection. As he grew older, without necessarily noticing it, there was a disposition of his that gradually moved away from trusting people that he meet for the first time. He used to just instinctively...

‘Death is always on the way, but the fact that you don’t know when it will arrive seems to take away from the finiteness of life. It’s that terrible precision that we hate so much. But because we don’t know, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens a certain number...