For the first time

An exhibition by Lisa Knight

I moved to Tokyo in February 2020, right before the pandemic. The borders closed and I couldn’t visit Australia for almost three years. I created a new life in Japan—became part of new communities, spoke a new language and learned an entirely new culture in this complex, dynamic and seemingly infinite metropolis.

When international travel became a possibility I booked a flight home. On a cool June evening I arrived in Casterton, close to the border between Victoria and South Australia. A small town with a population of just under 2,000, it’s known for its rolling hills and fertile plains. My Dad had moved there early on in the pandemic. He’d done something similar to me, actually: Quit his corporate job to do something radically different. He chose farming. It was the first time I would be seeing his new life in Australia.

On that June evening as the skies turned indigo and the stars glistened faintly, I was met with newborn lambs, the smell of freshly mowed grass, ancient gum trees, corrugated iron sheering sheds and a comforting, plump full moon.

These are the most instinctive photos I have ever taken. I’d lived in Australia for 28 years, but had never seen it in this way. I was gone for so long, exploring the world deeply yet forgetting where home was. I remembered.

“We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.”
—T.S. Eliot, from “Little Gidding,” Four Quartets