A trip to Nice, France at the end of July. Recording moments in time via a camera lens and small, salt-water-battered notebook. These are some transcribed lines and favorite image selections (from rolls and rolls of film).
Thoughts From Laying on the Beach
I take a pic on my iPhone instead of my film camera for my mom, feels so silly and trivial how many photos you can snap on an iPhone without a thought.
The loveliness of the day tempted me..." Emma is reading a book she found in Paris called “Erotica III” to us this morning, bare breasted and surrounded by older people taking their first dip of the day....
everything feels lovely.
Why do I feel more anxious plopped on a beach?
Isn’t this supposed to be the place people come to relax?
I don’t know, I guess I had the notion that a beautiful place would make all the pain go away
Em and I just had a conversation about how we are all humans afraid of other humans, humans afraid to live fully.
I think about how social anxiety prevents me from telling women I see on the street that I like their outfit or the way they’ve done their hair...
maybe if I actually told them....
Just being nicer to each other in those small ways—the barrier would be broken and we could be real with each other and tell strangers things like,
“hey I think you’re really beautiful and I hope you think so too”.
the waves today are a smooth silky blue...
they remind me of your eyes
unripe cantaloupe, a sexual reference from “Erotica III”
(unclear what they were actually referring to)
Watching children and older people makes me feel calm, older people seem so present, so in tune with what they want and what they are doing...
I can’t even decide what book to read or what I want to eat.
and children.. they aren’t thinking at all, they have no awareness of anxiety yet, no idea that the things they will one day come to fear could just be a social interaction.
I long for the days I didn’t know what the word “anxiety” felt like
No matter what, there will always be a place I’ve never been or would rather be.
Accepting the present will always be the hardest part...
Maybe this is why I have a hard time sitting still on a beach.