I rolled up my sleeves and waded into my photo-archives, wanting to begin the selection process I need to do for my exhibition opening at the end of October.
I popped back to the surface of life when reminded of an 11am appointment, at 11.15am. I'd forgotten in spite of having my appointments book open in front of me. An appointment with a friend but still, I forgot.
Photographs were taken, the last in a series. She made me a coffee, we shared our stories since last meeting, then I returned to my desk ... after lunch and a little more laundry.
Then came a conversation about 9/11, a link shared that pulled me into the world of the 2,200+ engineers and architects who want the event properly examined. Using real science. And I read the discussion that followed amongst friends and bommpft, I fell off the edge of my creative world ... again.
I have 8,000 photographs in the archives of my 2010 visit back home to New Zealand. I have photographic archives that I have never fully reviewed ... folders where I have skimmed off the best and most obvious at the time, meaning to get back to the rest but life has raced on, like a galloping horse sometimes.
Slightly destroyed, I wandered across to my bed. Note: having an office in a large bedroom means that the space isn't big enough to stop the bed-walk from occurring when sadness kicks in. I flopped there for a few minutes before the Belgian bloke phoned from his first day back after his long summer holiday.
Guilt. Caught being so lazy.
So here I am, back at the computer, exploring all these archived images of mine. I love what I'm finding, in terms of memories of home and people I adore but I'm fighting the sensation of overwhelm as hundreds upon hundreds of moments I never want to forget appear here in front of me.
Meet Fiona, my friend Fiona. She has been described in this way since I first left the place where we grew up. My friend Fiona ... my very best friend since I was 13 and still, so many years on, much-adored ... much-missed because we live about 20,000kms apart. I wish we lived closer.
Missing you today, Fiona.