Alone...

Every now and then, I need to take a moment in my busy life to just take a breather. Often enough, I put on my coat and head outside in the calm winter’s night to enjoy the fresh air and the beauty of this town I’ve ultimately called my own. So much I’ve walked the same route, the same path, and the same distance to the tracks now that I feel this familiarity to the surrounding area. So much so that I’m not afraid anymore to stay and wait through the night in the same dark area for long periods of time for the train to pass. I’m less afraid in the winter, since it’s so cold. I nestle myself in a snow bank near the tracks and put on my headphones until I feel the rumbling of the locomotive engine nearing. Although I may be out of sight from civilization, I’m not far enough to not hear when the railway warning signals descend. Therefore, I am still safely to the roads distance and yet, know when the train is approaching. It’s a great place to relax and clear my thoughts and just be…

I never thought I’d feel so much solitude during these moments. I feel as if sitting there, watching, hearing, feeling the train go by, I’m alone, on my own. No one is there to tell me what to do, what to say or how to act. I sit there and feel that I have no responsibilities in this world. I feel like I’m escaping. I imagine myself jumping the train, and never coming back. And the fact that I much rather enjoy watching the freight than the passenger train, not only because of its length, but because of its ominous power, it seems to relates to me so much more. It relates to me it because I feel like this train, is a loner…

Being a loner, to me, isn’t a bad thing. I much rather prefer being alone, to my own thoughts, than trying to make the world understand me, because in the end, only I understand myself. I know it’s not always good to keep everything inside, but who will better value and appreciate me than myself? Besides, sometimes it takes too much effort to convince the world of whom and what you are and you can get tired of it.

I’m tired of it….

That’s why I love to sit in the snow and watch the train pass…alone.

Catching the train (take 1)

I was finally able to get my video last night. After waiting two hours in the 0° cold, I thought to myself: Oh, the things I do for art. I was not going to leave until I got my shot. And what a satisfying feeling I once the train had passed.

I really had some time to think within my waiting time, mostly of my uncle. He’s a brilliant photographer who lives for his photography. He’ll wake up really early in the morning before the sun rises and wait for the lighting to be just right on whatever subject he’s shooting. He’ll sometimes spend entire days outside just waiting for the perfect moment. He does this everyday, photographing mostly nature. I’m thinking he must have acquired some great patience skills. He’s a very passionate and dedicated man and what amazes me the most is that he’s neither an artist nor a professional. He did not go to college or university yet he probably knows as much or maybe more than the average photo student. He talks almost like a professor.

So there I was standing around with a chill, and I kept thinking that I must have inherited his patience. I don’t know how I did it, but I managed to stay out, determined to catch my train. I guess that’s what good photography is all about.