This is my first photographic self-portrait - that day was extremely hard, I was alone, I had to take a photograph in order to remind myself of my loss. I had completely forgotten about this moment, this engraving, this image, until now, when I got the image from the Lab. This was almost 6 months ago.
"I am made of long shadows and falling leaves. I am in every sigh and every breath. I am in every contraction and expansion. I am bare feet and two souls and both heart and stone. I am burning fire and equal portions of joy and sorrow. Our hearts beat like the flapping of birds’ wings.
I am outsider in my own land but I am loved and understood. I am the birth and death of love and the death and birth of love. I am a bird falling and I am a bird that finds flight.”
- Philippa Ndisi-Herrmann Sep 12
The Revolution of My Heart
Yesterday, beside the rough seas of the Indian Ocean, I was fortunate to see the journey newly hatched turtles make to the sea.
I keep wondering where each turtle is now – how deep are they in the heart of the ocean? Do they feel alone or are they too hypnotised by the magnetism of the dancing sea? Yesterday I learnt the following:
Turtles make love in the ocean. The female turtle leaves her oceanic existence at night to nest her eggs within the sand then she returns to the water. A nest can consist of 60/100 eggs. The turtles incubate until the right time. Each turtle rests within their own egg. Each egg is a globe, each globe a world, each world a universe. After 45/70 nights the turtles hatch, it takes some days for them to dig their way to the surface of the sand. Together, but alone they pace their way steadily to the hungry ocean. Each turtle experiences the first moment of being engulfed by the arms of the waves. Once encompassed by its saltiness, the turtle paddles the sea for the first time. 1 of 500 hatched turtles will survive. A turtle will never meet his or her mother. When the female turtle is ready, she will return to the very spot of her birth, to give birth to her own offspring.