I went on a mindful retreat to my loft

Well of course I now have loft insulation stuck in my hands, but we all have to live a little right?

During the past month or so of lock down in the UK, thanks to the C word that shan’t be mentioned, I’ve missed photography. I’m the kind of person who usually walks for many miles at a time with my camera, not a few minutes within an hour of suggested daily exercise. Additionally I tend to stand, sit, crouch, even lay down for ages at a time too, watching or waiting for something to come into shot. To me at least, photography is mainly on hold.

My exercise routine, usually revolving around work, involves running, swimming, and moving dumbbells around in the lounge as quiet as I can for 9pm. Naturally, the swimming has gone, but I choose to use my outdoors time to run about, usually at nutty o’ clock in the morning, so as to get the best air and avoid the whole zig-zagging across the road thing we all seem to enjoy now. If I see anyone else it’s another runner.

So to those of you wondering about outside taking pics on your walkabout, good for you. I’m glad you still fit it into your day the way that works for you, documenting the empty shops, bars, hairdressers, the queues for food, and those flouting the rules. After this, there will be a full on body of documentary work, showing a world turned upside down.

Personally, photography is indoors or a case of going through the thousands of personal photos or those taken as part of my surveying work on nature reserves. This morning I remembered I have a loft. That’s the back story, no search for inner peace. There are no answers in my loft, unless the questions revolve around a lawnmower and a couple of skanky bird feeders.

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