Photography by Rose Bignall
Sam After Work - 2020
Rose Bignall
I am a photographic artist that is currently based in the South West of England, and has recently graduated with a degree (with honours) in Photography. My work is heavily inspired by the natural world, and I often utilise aspects of the great outdoors to create and compose my imagery. In particular, I feel most drawn to creating work surrounding the language and beauty of flowers, which has become somewhat of a trend within my practice over the past three years.
I have also begun to build a portfolio of various portraitures within this time, each utilising outdoor spaces to some capacity as well as exploring the potential that lies within the use of natural lighting.
I often feel as if I have spent my whole life searching for a home.
As a teenager, I wanted nothing more than to leave my hometown, so at the age of eighteen I moved two hundred miles away, to start my degree and start my life in a new residence. Nine months later, I moved back home again.
My romanticisation of escape had backfired, and I suddenly found myself right back at square one. I couldn’t bear the idea of regressing back to my parent’s house permanently, so I spent the next two and a half years floating between various dwellings. I wanted to feel nomadic, free-spirited even, but in reality all I felt was lost.
During this time, I invested a lot of energy into finding a sense of home. As a child, I became infatuated with the idea that home could be a person, filled with love and safety and contentment. Shortly after returning, I entered into a new relationship, and quickly found myself clinging on to my partner for that very reason.
The problem is, by viewing another person this way, you are subconsciously stating that you claim this person as your own. When you purchase a house, you are legally in ownership of the property, for you have signed the dotted line and are in possession of the keys. When you enter a relationship with someone, you are not in ownership of that person. That person is still an individual being and therefore has no obligation to remain with you. The concept of home is often rooted in the idea of permanence, but a human being can never be truly permanent. Once we are born, our only certainty is that we die.
From this realisation - which seemed to perfectly coincide with the pandemic - I began to explore the idea of home in a metaphorical sense, as opposed to a literal one. I spent as much time as possible outdoors, and began to delve into my spiritual beliefs, which are heavily connected to the natural world. I began to study the various flora, fauna and fungi within the immediate radius of my dwelling, and over time came to realise that I feel most at home when I am outdoors, connected to the varying forms of nature.
Perhaps, then, the idea of home needn’t be a physical location, nor another human waiting with open arms. Perhaps home is an emotional response, a connection to something - be it common or not. Perhaps home is a fluid concept, capable of change and adaptation as time progresses and we grow older. Perhaps home is a placebo, or perhaps it is entirely real, or perhaps it is nothing at all.
I take comfort in knowing that I have found some semblance of home, for now.
120mm Film; Giclee Print on 300gsm Matt Paper
42x59cm
Framed