This work is a visual scrapbook: a meditation on flight, travel, and memory.
I have travelled to more countries than I ever could have imagined in the last 25 years. While the days of the perforated boarding pass were already numbered, it took the more or less complete closure of airports in March 2020 to realise how much regular flights had become part of normal life for many of us, especially for those used to living overseas.
The weathered passport, in a colour no longer de rigeur in the post-Brexit UK,
granted me access to all these places.
Inadvertently stored, now fading boarding passes - some barely legible - are testament to the one-time ubiquity of flight in my life, represented also by photos from just some of my travels; memories once vivid, gradually decolourising in my mind's eye.
On March 28th 2020 the Irish government announced a strict lockdown: people were allowed to shop for essentials and exercise within a 2km boundary of their houses.
On May 1st 2020, Covid-19 Irish government travel restrictions for essential shopping and exercise only were loosened to a 5km boundary limit.
On June 8th 2020 travel restrictions were relaxed to the limits of the county boundary, or within 20 km of people's houses if crossing county borders.
In August, after 5 months of restrictions I finally visited (not to fly, only photograph) the somewhat surreal landscape of Dublin Airport's Terminal 2 and its surrounding fields, once so familiar, now eerily empty and shuttered, even since the resumption of international flights.
The most recent smartphone-friendly boarding passes are from the final flights I took in the 6 months before the lockdown in Ireland. In 2020 alone I had already flown 7 times in blissful, pre-Covid ignorance.
"The space of a foreigner is...a plane in flight, the very
transition that precludes stopping."
Julia Kristeva, Strangers to Ourselves