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There’s often a point in time during a long walk through the snow when time seems to lose meaning. You feel as if you’ve been repeating the same forward motion for as long as you can remember, the distance from where you started to where you’re going seems never ending. Maybe you’re exhausted, maybe your pack feels heavier than before, maybe that last push requires more energy than you think you can summon from within yourself. And yet there’s a deep comfort in the repetition, in the limbo. This is all you know right now, but you know it in your entire being.
There’s often a point in time during a long walk through the snow when time seems to lose meaning. You feel as if you’ve been repeating the same forward motion for as long as you can remember, the distance from where you started to where you’re going seems never ending. Maybe you’re exhausted, maybe your pack feels heavier than before, maybe that last push requires more energy than you think you can summon from within yourself. And yet there’s a deep comfort in the repetition, in the limbo. This is all you know right now, but you know it in your entire being.
There’s often a point in time during a long walk through the snow when time seems to lose meaning. You feel as if you’ve been repeating the same forward motion for as long as you can remember, the distance from where you started to where you’re going seems never ending. Maybe you’re exhausted, maybe your pack feels heavier than before, maybe that last push requires more energy than you think you can summon from within yourself. And yet there’s a deep comfort in the repetition, in the limbo. This is all you know right now, but you know it in your entire being.
Printed to order on Hahnemühle Photo Rag with a matte finish. This smooth and silky fine art paper is made of 100% cotton rag, giving an exquisite & even colour tonality that has a distinct cotton feel.
Unframed prints come without a white border. If you wish to have white border, please ensure you select a framed option.
There’s often a point in time during a long walk through the snow when time seems to lose meaning. You feel as if you’ve been repeating the same forward motion for as long as you can remember, the distance from where you started to where you’re going seems never ending. Maybe you’re exhausted, maybe your pack feels heavier than before, maybe that last push requires more energy than you think you can summon from within yourself. And yet there’s a deep comfort in the repetition, in the limbo. This is all you know right now, but you know it in your entire being.
