Not at home at home
Not at home at home
I used to chase beauty. The quiet kind. Mystical mornings. Sunsets bathed in warm colours. The postcard scenes, the perfect light, the perfect frame, no disturbances. Always skimming the edge of the frame, making sure nothing sneaked in that didn’t belong.
But lately, I realised that the desire for beauty, for perfection had become a burden, a hinderance. An excuse not to look. Not to really see what’s around me every day, since all I see is chaos, dirt and destruction of what once used to be a paradise.
Yesterday, I went into Denpasar. The part of Bali I usually avoid, although it is right next to where I live. The noise, the traffic, the dirt, the chaos. All the reasons I tell myself I don’t take pictures anymore concentrated in one space.
And yet, that’s where I went. Not to escape it, but to face it. To take a closer look. To see if I could find something that still sparks my interest in the mundane of the city surrounding me.
I didn’t go looking for beauty this time. I went looking for honesty. For the cracks, the colours, the unintentional compositions of life as it is. A tangle of cables on crooked poles, the layers of old paint on a wall, people in a moment living their ordinary daily life. No staged landscapes, no models dressed for the occasion. Just true and simple moments when real life is happening.
For the first time in a long while, I didn’t try to fix the scene, waiting for the better light, moving branches or even garbage out of the frame. I just walked there, camera in hand, and let it be what it was. Imperfect, noisy, human. And somehow… that felt right.
Maybe that’s what I’m learning now. To stop trying to escape the place I live in, and instead start listening to it. To its rhythm, its mess, its strange kind of truth. I don’t think I’ve made peace yet with the noise, the clutter, the way this place seems to swallow quiet moments. But maybe peace isn’t the goal. Maybe seeing clearly is.
These photos are not about beauty. They are about presence. About being here, even when it’s not comfortable. Especially then.
This is not a change of direction. It’s a way to stay in motion.
There are still the places I want to go, open roads, quiet mountains. But until then, I can’t let distance become an excuse.
Maybe being not at home at home is also a kind of lesson. To see what’s right in front of me, even when it doesn’t fit the picture I want it to be. Because beauty isn’t somewhere else. It’s here too. Hidden in the cracks, the noise, the uneven edges of daily life.
And maybe learning to see it here is what keeps me ready to recognise it anywhere.
And then it started to rain...
Some of my favourite shots from that day came when the rain surprised me and trapped me under the canopy of a small shop, forcing me to stand still and watch the world move by through the veil of water.
Impression from before the rain
These were taken before the rain came. My first small walk into a part of the city I usually stay away from. The light was flat, the colours muted, but maybe that’s what made everything feel honest.
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