I’ve been anticipating my return to Paris ever since I boarded my last summer flight home from Ibiza. Truthfully, I don’t much miss the city when it’s summer, the beach is a grand distraction but as soon as the seasons shift, there is no where I’d rather be than France. One day I’d like to live between here and Ibiza, spending my summers by the turquoise island waters and the colder months, cosied up in Parisian cafes writing my books. One day, one day.
And this work trip to France, the beginning of a series of projects here in the city – feels rather emotional, inexplicably. I am admitedly pre-menstrual, which raises my melancholy to a theatrical level. And as I rush from shoots to meetings, passing all the places I once knew so well, it is all so beautiful but sad too, how the lived I lived here in my early twenties feels so faraway, distant like it never happened, like a dream.
what i’m wearing: primark beret, primark rollneck sweater, primark camel high-waisted chinos, primark snakeskin heels & vintage fendi bag
Why does time pull so much away from us, blurring what was once sharp? We get but one life and most of it we don’t remember in any kind of vivid way. That thought alone makes me cry. It’s a sentimental sort of longing, not homesick – more…timesick – for all the befores of my life. I’m awfully nostalgic and typically, I can indulge even my most ridiculous aches – but not this week, or next. No it will have to wait until I’m back at home, with hours by a computer, alone. For now, there is so much to do, so much work my brain might explode. So I tossed on this beret, distracted myself with far too many croissants and now, I’m throwing myself into the creative satisfaction that comes with photography work in Paris. It is the most beautiful place in the world for imagery, after all.