Coming to Denmark is never a holiday for me. Rather, it’s an experience best described as an existential crisis. You might think there’s more than a little bit of exaggeration there, but to tell the truth, I’m deadly serious.
The decision we made nearly 10 years ago to leave Denmark, where I had then lived for nearly six years, to return to Australia to live, was a decision that has never sat completely comfortably for either my wife or myself. That’s not to say a decision to return to Denmark was ever on the cards either. Reality settled somewhere in between, with neither option entirely satisfying and the winner being the status quo.
That’s why it’s so hard to come back. All the doubts return in glorious technicolour. All the things we miss are magnified a thousandfold, and even if the weather is crap at the time (which it often is in Denmark), the grass seems very much greener nonetheless. And of course the grass is very much greener over here, because it actually rains, unlike drought stricken Australia 
But it’s never quite enough anyway. For all the multitude of reasons we think we would be better off coming back, we never seem to have enough positives to make that unthinkable decision. Maybe it’s also in the nature of the actual decision. It would be a monstrously huge thing to uproot our family and transplant it into Danish soil. It’s crazy. We couldn’t afford a shed to live in and the government would probably not even allow me to migrate anyway, due to their very strict immigration policy.
So why can’t we let it lie? I have no answer at all. It’s one of life’s baffling mysteries. My fate is inextricably linked to Denmark, but on what terms I can’t decide. It’s one of those days where I wished I could toss a coin and accept the outcome.
Sigh….
Copenhagen is a fabulous city. I sometimes can’t remember why I ever left the place. Particularly in summer. In winter though, it comes back to me all too quickly. 
But now it’s spring. Late spring. The sun is warm, and high and bright in the sky (when it’s not raining that is), and the trees are all proudly wearing a thick coat of brilliantly green leaves. The Danes themselves are out in their thousands, soaking up the sun wherever they can find it. I went out for a few hours today around Frederiksberg Park, and I have to say how stunned I am about the Danes as a people. They are just so beautiful. Women, men and children alike. The general homogenity of the nation strengthens their look I suppose, but they are a very handsome race, that’s for sure. And my God, talk about stylish. They probably go a bit overboard there (well at least that five year old girl with the matching gumboots and jacket was a bit much) but in general they are just so damn attractive. It’s nice to watch, but as a not quite so handsome and definately not so well dressed visitor, I feel like I stick out like a newly arrived Pom on Bondi Beach on New Years Day. Especially with a camera around my neck. It’s days like these I want a 400mm lens, and a specially built hide right in the middle of Strøget so I can happily snap away at the Danish beauties without feeling exposed.
It’s all so voyeuristic photography isn’t it. I love shooting social street documentary type stuff, but that’s one of the really voyeuristic aspects. Stick a camera up in a bunch of strangers and take photos of them. I sometimes wonder if I’d be better off exclusively shooting inanimate objects so hard is it to overcome my inclination to shyness.
Oh well, I suppose there’s nothing for it but to get back out there amongst them all. Thank goodness it’s not high summer, when all the girls strip off and lie in the sun in nothing but their knickers in the parks in their lunchbreaks…
There was a death in my wife’s family, and we had to suddenly return to Denmark. Pernille’s beloved grandfather, Karl, died last week at the age of 90, and one of his dying wishes was that we all returned for the funeral. There are not many people I would travel halfway around the world for in circumstances such as these, but he was definately one of them. The world is a lesser place with his passing.
Despite the circumstances though, it’s always nice to return to DK. So greetings from lovely Copenhagen. Unfortunately when I arrived the other day, I found out that someone had hacked into my server and so the last few posts I had written were deleted as the server was restored from a previous day. Bloody hackers. I will never understand their motivation. Anyway, I won’t be blogging much in the next few weeks as my computer access is limited, and I have a large family of in-laws to re-acquaint myself with.
Despite that statement, I have been thinking a lot lately about the value of photography in an artistic sense, and the differences between “pretty pictures” and more conceptual images that arouse strong feelings in people. I love pictures that are confronting and challenging, but I equally love a beautiful landscape that speaks of not much more than beauty and peace (as if we’d need more). I suppose it’s all about what turns you on. If I get more time in the next few days I might ruminate on that idea further.
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