How easy it is to glamourise life. Life seen through a photographers lens is often more reminiscent of a rose-coloured memory than the vivid reality. And in imagining life lived through misty visions we are often misled to think that in order to live life well we must be earning the mega bucks or traveling the world (while burning huge amounts of fossil fuel!) or being anywhere other than ‘here’.
This is a tribute to the domestic. The backyard that remains in our memories as we grow and that provides a place for our families to congregate and for little ones to learn about life. The backyard that dries our washing, houses our chooks, fences in our dogs, grows our veges. It can never be understated in its importance. And I feel its the place where most of my most wholesome living takes place, as unglamorous as it is. Though ‘glamour’ is a fallacy, I believe, and in fact its original meaning was ‘enchantment or magic’. And it is generally through the enchantment of film or photography that a false life of glamour is created, and we must force ourselves to remember that, firstly, the lens often lies, and that most of the time life is lived away from the camera, in backyards everywhere. And it is in our own backyards that we must make our own lives.