Ashes in my Eyes
Grief is something that is hard to deal, no matter what stage you come across it in life. As I have grown up, I have come to realise that there is a lot of grief that I have not dealt with yet because the beauty of innocence took over. It allowed me to live in a dream world where the people I lost, never left. The significance of this place, these photographs are endless, as a young girl I lost two very important men, at the age of six I lost my Grandad and at eleven I lost my Uncle. They taught me two of the most valuable things I know, Grandad taught me how to read and my Uncle Alan taught me a passion for the arts. This is where some of my most beautiful memories with them are, this is where their ashes lay. As a child here, in Webbers Post I had urges just to run, not out of fear but out of freedom. The day we scattered my Grandfather’s ashes they flew into my eyes, I turned around and said to everyone “it’s okay, now Grandad will be with me forever”. As I have grown older, when I revisit Webbers Post now, it is not quite the same, my urge to run has been replaced with an urge to shoot and to keep shooting. All I want is to make them proud.