A friend just asked me if I feel settled in West Virginia yet. The short answer: No. The longer answer is that I don’t think I will, as I believe I will be traveling more than ever and therefore unable to nest properly. I’ll be testing my ability to feel at home in the world. The future holds travel for months on end in vastly different locations.

I am on the cusp of what could be a defining moment. The lead up has been exciting, excruciating, full of twists, with a few disappointments, but the forward momentum has held. As this has been a protracted process I have had plenty of time to consider the nuance and flow of this period.  The moments that stick with me are the moments that I have been able to stop and make a photograph.  I don’t mean click the shutter, I mean stop and see something that may have lasting value as a photograph. These are the nuances that give fullness to this experience of waiting, of being on the verge. It’s a prickly spot for me to endure as I am generally fond of action and clicking off items on the agenda.  Yes, I often procrastinate, horribly, but once in motion I can be tough to rein in. So this limbo experience is uncomfortable and forces me to look to things that make it less so.

I’ve chosen these images for two reasons: they have all been made since I have been in West Virginia these last four weeks, and they speak to me of waiting with a feeling of motion, transition or impermance in the waiting. The train is moving in the shot, the rain drops are falling, I am still for 5 minutes. The snow has fallen in the river scene, lightly, ice remains on the sycamores to highlight its structure. But the river moves, unceasing, and the ice will melt to become the river. The apples have fallen, defiantly holding their cheeky color in the face of decay and blanketing snow. The tumbling weed is still, for a moment, in a landscape that has changed greatly in the years I have been away. The snow creates a quiet resting place, a backdrop of calm and quiet. It is, in fact, an intersection leading to a fast food restaurant.

In this flow…in all this motion, change, and possibility, I am still, Keron.