Photography is so often about isolation. The captured image is isolated from the continuum of time and place; the subject may be isolated by the choice of framing or the depth of field. What may have been deemed unremarkable at first glance, or perhaps even passed over all together, can now come to the fore: a scene severed from its context can serve to emphasise tone, texture, colour and structure. Beyond this, the observer is free to bring their own connotations to bear on the isolated image. Sometimes this isolation is a deception; sometimes it elevates the image to something artistic – not that these are distinct categories by any means.
I don’t think that this image is particularly meritorious in respect to any of the above, but I'm pleased with how it captures a scene I enjoyed so fleetingly. Taken during the second week of a break abroad, it was the first time I’d travelled with a film camera as my only camera. I underestimated on how much to bring and finished my last roll just the day before, but eventually found a small Pharmacy selling a few rolls of Fujifilm Superia. Not being one for lounging by the pool or on the beach for extended periods of time, being able to wander alone for a little while, capturing whatever caught my eye was – as something of an introvert – a cherished kind of isolation.