I love how light fills the flat. But this afternoon, sitting by the window for lunch, I could feel the heat bearing down on my back. And I suddenly realised: the windows have blinds! Silly me. I have not lowered these blinds for more than a year and have forgotten about them. When I did, the room immediately cooled. The blinds filter the light and in the first photo you can see the difference.
I took these photos as quickly as I could on my phone because light moves and shifts. Even though light seems to own the magic of seeming to complete and freeze time, it can't - light is a bird. No, time is a bird.
There are some movies that make fantastic use of these qualities of light to tell a story. I am thinking of Wong Kar Wai’s or rather Chris Doyle’s sensuous use of light in Days of being wild. Probably more subtle will be Kore-Eda’s first fiction film Maborosi. It is shot entirely in natural light - how beautiful and cleverly the light, shadow and darkness speak as a narrator, guiding the viewer through the story.
Context and perception, however, can be everything. Therefore how artfully humans can manipulate this, or be manipulated. Darkness and shadows in a socially depressed environment can feel like traps have been laid for you everywhere. The sun’s rays can be unrelenting like a heated net for those who labour under it. And the flood of an indiscriminate light, clear and cold, as in the corridors of public hospitals, can also feel oppressive. I am grateful for the beautiful light that bathes my home, though in the current #circuitbreaker atmosphere, I cannot help but feel the light carries a wistfulness. For now.