Monomad: Beneath the heat

Weather continues to pick up each week. A strong sunlight that punches through the gaps of the few trees that are to be found within Yerevan. The city on a desperate bid now to provide more greenery to its inhabitants, the encouragement of shadow that shields from a sunlight that you can now feel on the skin. Tourists roam the city clinging to bottles of water, shades wrapped tightly around their heads, and extra shirts wrapped around their waists. The most dominant colours within the city are brown and a strong gold. A significant density of people lead to the necessity to weave between the crowds in order to get through the streets. Moments of emptiness feel rare, leading to me often enough pointing the camera upward to capture the brief moments of peace in the air. Despite the lack of subject to be found in it. The sunlight and its warmth quickly disappear going into the evenings, however, as the sun falls behind the buildings, the city being in a more mountainous region encourages that fleeting of the light. I roam Yerevan almost daily at this point. I never have a destination in mind, never really any actual obligations to pursue. The stage is slowly being set for something greater, though during these adventures I have the constant thoughts that run through my mind: do I really see myself doing something more than this?

To roam the streets is a blessing, to hold a camera in your hands at the same time is another feeling entirely. To watch the many stories unfolding before your very eyes, to be the observer that has the ability to capture such moments in time. To be a director almost in a story that is ongoing, perhaps with some aspects of an end, but remaining continuous in the stories of others. Yerevan's small, streets become repetitive, but the people within such spaces change constantly. The development of the city is evident with the hammering away at various forms of rock and metal. The Soviet era architecture remains my favourite, the otherworldly aspects of it all that speak of a clearly better time for much of Yerevan's now aged population. One can understand the feeling they may have regarding the present and the future, the idea that their days of youth were met with better experiences and opportunity. Sometimes it is hard to not feel that way too as I walk through mixtures of old and new. The passion in the styles, the lack of soul in the modernism. Identity lost, money the main pursuit now. No longer a pride in the creations of man. I sit here typing this by one of the world's oldest churches, I see the stone around, the beauty in the grand, the old. I sit and think: will we ever return to a similar form of simplicity?

It's interesting to walk through a space like this as an outsider, to have heard such negative stories of these areas of the world growing up. To have been told that at one point this land would've been considered the enemy. I think even then, if I were to be here in that moment, I wouldn't feel that. The beauty of a space that is clearly artistic, the interest in showing the world its presence; naturally aspects of how that was enforced are to be met with fair criticism, but I think it's interesting how much nonsense we are told that we believe about other parts of the world. To then look back and realise that those very people actually had some great ideas, and the decline in those periods should actually be met with some sadness. I see this sadness in Yerevan's population sometimes. Not just in the faces of the elderly, but in a nation of people that aren't particularly well-off, with a government that is removing itself from prior alliances and pursuing another elsewhere, which is only to be met with an equal level of destruction for the population as changes to tradition and culture are made. Again, all in the name of profit. None of this interests me, I have noticed this during my walks. I barely eat, I barely drink, and I barely have much else on my mind than exploration. I sometimes think of my future with this, whether I can find a way to start caring about money and balancing out the creativity with financial security more.

The world goes on regardless of how I feel and what I think and want. The development and construction shifts landscapes seemingly overnight, the noise fills the city as it feels there are few places to really escape from it and relax. With all those aforementioned stories going on all at once within such a confined space, it often feels like a competition over noise. An attempt to gain dominance over all else. The sounds of footsteps, the barking of stray dogs, the slapping away at instruments from the poor musicians that try to charge its passer's by for money over a simple photograph. I am of the stubborn nature in that I refuse to accept such conditions; and fortunately for me, I have an 85mm lens that allows me to take such shots without noticing and interfering with such events. Again that distant observer perspective. Always watching the life unfolding around. Sometimes stopping to sit with the feeling of pain in my feet from the weeks prior, the blistering that is felt from hard surfaces and soft shoes. Will I change them for something other? No. I pack lightly, a few batteries, a few cables. Light clothing to maintain some cool temperature under the sun as I run through the city like an ant that just had its nest disturbed by a curious child with a stick.

In moments of exhaustion I find myself looking for more simplistic shots. Avoiding the constant motion around me and the energy it requires to maintain some attention to it all. I instead focus on the small. The things beneath me, the few plants and bushes. Little leaves that show some life and stillness within the city, a contrast to all else. Even then, I feel admiration for it all. The little elements of beauty to be found in every corner. The fact that this life really is all about perspective. It doesn't matter how you feel, or where you look, there will be something worthy of taking appreciation for. And for me, that's a drug. I can't stop it. I feel the itch to get out there. To not take breaks, to keep pursuing new photographs of life. To not rest and recover, to not remain idle. For that would be to miss out on the many things taking place without me noticing. Photography is something that I will keep doing until I drop. The camera at this point is a mere extension of my body, stuck within my grasp or morphed into my being from the strap around my neck. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Anyway, hello, Black and White community!