It’s very distressing with the recent news of the miners. Now one of the two miners trapped underground in a Yorkshire colliery has been confirmed dead, and the prospects for the other are increaasingly poor.
This is sad in many ways. Firstly, for these brave men who have lost their lives in several mining accidents recently, for their bereaved family and friends and for the simple fact that however much society has moved on, we are still so vulnerable that we can lose our lives in the same way as men did hundreds of years ago. This fragility of humanity seems to be ever present, and we seem to be incapable of curing ourselves of it. But would humanity still be the same without it’s vulnerability? Would be reckless and less caring? Would each life matter more or less as it became harder to extinguish.
I send my most heartfelt consolations to the family of the first miner to die, and my deepest deepest hopes that the second miner survives and can return to his worried family. Our fragility is still our downfall.
I think this is a really haunting image of our modern age. It was taken on that terrible day, 9/11. A man plummets to his death rather than burn to it. An act of acceptance and bravery like no other, with a terrible undercurrent of his lack of choice. Death by falling or fire? Hardly something we would like to faced with. As a photographer, to achieve a photo a quarter as captivating as this would be a lifelong ambition. The air of serenity that it carries is beautiful and horrible. This man has been identified and it must be a relief to his family that he clasped at this last chance of courage in his final moments. I would hope I could do the same, decide to take my life instead of letting terrorists take it, but I’m not so sure I could.
The first day in almost any situation is a interesting one. Full of first impressions, new people and fitting in. Whether it’s a new job, a new school or a new place, everyone seems to behave in exactly the same way. Pretend.
It is a human defence mechanism almost, pretending to be someone you’re not, to protect who you really are from criticism. Who of any of us can truly say they are immune to criticism or rejection? But at least if you were to know that it was some persona that you had put on that was rejected, the hurt would be shallower.
Knowing this, every first day I go into I attempt to be myself, to stay true to me and take criticism as it comes and every first day without fail, I can’t. I become someone I am not instinctively. I know I shall smile, elaborate stories of the summer and feign interest in everyone else exaggerated stories, pushing aside that feeling within me saying ‘stop’.