A few years back, when I hit a wall in life, I found myself wandering around the seaside town of Aarhus, Denmark. I always liked walking; it helps my thoughts move. As I was roaming aimlessly – when lost there’s no point in trying to find a destination – I found myself stumbling upon and capturing pictures of these beautiful diversity of colorful walls in hidden alleys and streets. Walls, it was such a great metaphor.
![](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/0a6c8c_9a6ac1081ed44d938b7146f31604f7fc~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_980,h_1386,al_c,q_85,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_auto/0a6c8c_9a6ac1081ed44d938b7146f31604f7fc~mv2.jpg)
Around the same time, I discovered and fell in love with poetry. As if suddenly, I had found a home to rest my feelings. Word paintings. Moments, snippets in time, capturing moods and thoughts.
It was an empowering process, visiting this colorful procession of walls.
![](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/0a6c8c_d9fc2e5413b2467daded439711458773~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_980,h_1386,al_c,q_85,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_auto/0a6c8c_d9fc2e5413b2467daded439711458773~mv2.jpg)
More synchronicities showed up: a friend took me to a brick museum and showed me a tiny beach in southern Denmark where years back the faulted bricks of an old brick factory were disposed in the sea and since then have washed back upon the shore. A silent shoreline of faulted bricks. Brick Beach – pick up a faulted brick, place it back at the shoreline, let water soften its rough edges.
![](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/0a6c8c_77a3ee4d7f9341df92feb9e98f2d735b~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_980,h_1386,al_c,q_85,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_auto/0a6c8c_77a3ee4d7f9341df92feb9e98f2d735b~mv2.jpg)
Brick by brick. The symbolism of walls. Walls build a home or form a boarder. It’s about breaking down or building up. About closely examining each brick to find out what the walls are made of. About facing walls and keep going anyway – knowing, this is a wall, this stops me from going through, and this awaits at the other side of the wall.
![](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/0a6c8c_ad112476655d45e389e63119d0938b06~mv2.png/v1/fill/w_529,h_600,al_c,q_85,enc_auto/0a6c8c_ad112476655d45e389e63119d0938b06~mv2.png)
So yeah, I guess this collection of photo poetry ‘Brick by Brick’ was not a mere coincidence, it was a necessity. A celebration of finding walls.
All I need now, is a mural. Haha!
Wendy Garnier