While going through my archives, I came across these photos taken in 2019, in the backyard and on the street of my old house. Looking at them, I can barely process what it was like to live in such a beautiful and bucolic place. These images certainly serve as a reminder that I still long to live in a rural area, close to nature, and in a way, they motivate me to keep this as a life goal, to return to the countryside.
I feel like I can hear the surrounding sounds just by looking at these photos, and I’m flooded with memories. My memory, in fact, often feels sensory. Every time I recall the houses I have lived in, I remember the exact sounds and the precise feeling of materials, doors, windows, I can recall how it felt to touch the furniture and objects, the exact sensation of the wood, the walls, the creaking sound of the slightly stuck window opening and closing.
I remember absolutely all these details that might seem insignificant. In this backyard, I recall the texture of the wooden gate that once stood there, dividing the space in half. I painted it blue to make it feel less sad, and that gate was like a portal to a magical world, unnoticed by everyone else.
Unfortunately, I could not find the photos of the blue gate this time, maybe next time.
Hope you enjoy these images.
