here, the pulse of the image lies in the idea of being lost, of being dislocated. despite this strange uprooting, these objects; ships, hot air balloons, paper planes, have found a new home in the forest, tangled in branches, bathed in the special sunlight that filters through the canopy.
as much as the sea feels like home to me, so does the woods. growing up on an island means one is literally surrounded by the wild aspects of nature, something i believe took for granted in my youth and which i now miss, having lived in this city for 13 years now. anytime i am out of philly and hear crickets or see the stars, i feel a bit homesick for a place i haven't been yet, but want to be.
lately we have been escaping to the woods a bit more and despite it's beauty, i feel a kind of horror too, i feel a little afraid, though i can't quite understand why. this strange contradiction feels unsettling to me, and i see part of this personal tension here in these poignant images by jo metson scott, saturated with a kind of loss, but also with a lovely melancholy.