A liminal space is a threshold–a spatial or temporal dimension separating what was and what’s next. It is an in-between moment wrought with possibility. It is a period of discomfort, of waiting, of transformation. It is a place where reality feels altered, because, in essence, it is in the process of doing so.
A liminal space can be a single moment, a sacred place, an epoch.
In this case, it is an entire experience.
For thirty-three days, my mother and I will backpack El Camino de Santiago, a 790km pilgrimage across the Pyrenees mountains and the northern Spanish countryside. It will be transitional, uncomfortable, remarkable. I’ll record each day in brief with photographs and imagistic prose, in order to fully unravel the liminal experience.