Behind the Lens (of Longing) by Steven Stanley Manolakis

Introduced by a mutual friend, I met her during the Black Summer fires in Sydney. It was a warm October evening; the mosquitoes were biting incessantly; and our eyes locked as we sat at my friend’s picnic table. Long, buttery hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the dancing embers of a nearby fire flickered in her pale blue eyes.

As we shared gelato, her adventurous nature revealed itself as she spoke of her plan to travel around Australia in a campervan. Her enthusiasm permeated every word, swelling like an orchestra in crescendo, even as she mentioned working in the city to save money.

A few weeks after our first meeting, I saw her again. This time, we met at the beach, and after a walk along the promenade, I took her to a hillside golf club with a panoramic view of the cliffs. Playfully, we hurried to the course boundary, crossing two large rock precipices before reaching the cliff's edge. We sat side by side, our legs dangling over the ledge, as the sun slowly set behind us.

My gaze lingered over the Pacific, its sapphire hue glistening in the dimming light, the gentle rhythm of the waves stirring something deep within me. Overcome by a sudden inner warmth, I turned toward her. She epitomised beauty: the elegant slope of her nose, the kindness radiating from her eyes, the soft blush of her cheeks when she smiled, and the intricate contours of her lips, which deepened as she spoke. At that moment, as the sea broke beneath me, my heart surged with longing.


Black Summer
Unfortunately, her travel plans were shattered after her apartment was burglarised; even the money she diligently saved for the campervan was stolen.

In the subsequent days, ash and smoke from fires ravaging the surrounding wilderness were carried to the city by strong offshore winds. The air thickened with the scent of charred eucalyptus, and the midday sun transformed into an orange globe behind a mask of yellow haze. Lying on the rocks near the beach and gazing at the sky, I observed a dense brown smoke cloud looming above me like an anvil, pressing against a stubborn sea breeze. A few weeks later, she announced her departure.

We kept in touch in the usual ways—phone calls and messages. However, as a channel for my quiet perspicacity, I also sent her handwritten letters, allowing me to express the nuances and details I admired about her without explicitly confessing how I felt. Each letter was meticulously crafted; I even used a ruler to ensure each line was perfectly symmetrical. But, beneath this veneer of perfectionism, my carefully selected words carried an openness and emotional vulnerability—a subtle invitation for her to draw nearer, to peel back the layers, and to be seen.

She finally acknowledged my feelings during a video call, but when she explained that she did not reciprocate, it felt like a block of ice was pressed against my chest. The silence lingered, and as I fought to hold back my tears, the world seemed to pause, as if waiting for my response. When she suggested ending the call, I reluctantly agreed, unable to find the words to prolong the moment.

Ultimately, she suggested parting ways completely; she found it too difficult to maintain a friendship given my romantic feelings.


Philosophical Reflection
Three years since our last conversation, and the ache of missing her remains. Being separated from someone you love is confusing and complex; it can make you feel cut off and incomplete. That is, when the person you love becomes unavailable, the parts of yourself that grew and flourished in response to that love can feel as though they are at risk of being lost or destroyed forever.

Philosophers argue that this is because our sense of self is relational—shaped by those we love. We discover our most basic sense of self during intimate relationships; they reveal our unmet needs and vulnerabilities, leaving us susceptible to wounding, but they also greatly contribute to our personal development and flourishing.


Artistic Expression
In my artistic endeavours, I strive to encapsulate her significance to me and articulate the profound aspects of myself that often elude written or verbal expression. Soaring above the Earth with my lens focused on the landscape below, I am driven by her persistent memory to capture natural features that evoke her distinct beauty and personality while reflecting my enduring emptiness.

Post-expedition, after scrupulously analysing each image and only selecting those that meet my exacting standards of quality and composition for display, I compile a curated collection that communicates my affection, attachment, and admiration for someone who is no longer relationally available to me.

My collection, saturated with meaning, offers a glimpse into the pain and sorrow of unrequited love. These images capture the complexity of this often devastating yet deeply human experience.

In Broken Moon, the contours of the landscape drift like fragments of a shattered moon suspended in space, evoking a sense of haunting loneliness and isolation. The soft blue tidal bands in Lament and the bifurcation of water in Dissociate reflect tearful sorrow and emotional detachment, echoing the ache of longing and the despair of losing hope. Nausea visually portrays the visceral sickness of loss and aversion to reality. In contrast, Still provides solace through tranquillity and solitude, while Germinate embodies the delicate hope of restoration, symbolised by the tender flowering of new beginnings.

Love and loss are interwoven throughout my work, integrating emotion with vast landscapes to capture the world and human life in their most authentic form. Through this fusion of emotion and landscape, my work seeks to illuminate the beauty and fragility of the human experience.