It’s awkward being stuck in the in-between. It’s like listening to a song that only plays to the middle — and repeats — or watching a movie that cuts to the credits before you’re even half way through. There’s no satisfaction. No feeling of experiencing the highs and lows. Only knowing that the start of the journey was compelling and you expected to be transformed by the end.
I’m uncomfortable in the in-between. It inhibits momentum and forward motion; of hopes that might have been pinned on some outrageous fantasies, that in reality, were about as mundane as you can get. And I’m not good with inaction. I need things to move fast like the thoughts that enter and exit my mind before my mouth has time to catch up. It can be awkward when words trip, rather than dance across my tongue, but at least it’s familiar territory.
When you’re stuck in the in-between it’s hard to separate minutes from hours, and even days. They merge indistinguishably and I don’t recognise time as it moves sluggishly towards a grey room with nothing in it but dead space. I feel like I’ve walked into some kind of weird art project about the existence of everything and nothing.
In this room there are no windows, only a single chair that sits off-centre. The chair was painted white once. Now it’s worn and chipped, with one leg slightly bent. This chair is crippled. It’s literally on it’s last legs.
BE SEATED SIT AT YOUR OWN RISK is painted in green letters underneath. But you only find out once you fall on your arse in front of a room full of people who were otherwise too scared to sit down.
Style File: Trippen Shoes from Head Over Heels / Bespoke Culottes by Australian designer Cherry Luk who showed at iD Fashion Week last year. Cherry showed a collection of gender neutral garments – these culottes were worn by a male model and the long bits that I tie across the front are actually sleeves! / Country Road T-Shirt / ASOS silver cuff / Necklace bought years ago at a random accessories store in the South Island.
Photography © Sly On the Wall