You know those moments in life, where you’re living on a wing and a prayer one moment, and the next you’re in a car with a stranger, driving to another country?
That.
Loneliness ....
I wrote a post, over on Facebook, about Loneliness ...
But things have a habit of disappearing there. It's the nature of FB. Life scrolls on. Perhaps it reappears at a memory in a year, or two but I wanted to keep this post because it seemed to really strike a cord in people.
I wrote from the heart, and people responded from that place too.
It was this:
I have mostly been part of a tribe...
1 of 4 children, twice a wife, a mother, a stepmother, and a nonna too. And then I have had lovely circles of friends where ever I have lived.
'Tribes', made up of family & friends, are things that I appreciate so much, simply because I know I should never take them forgranted.
Out here, sometimes, the loneliness makes me leave the house, with my camera, and walk these ancient city streets. It has always been my way, since I was small, in New Zealand I sought out the beaches and rivers. In Istanbul, I would cross the city on foot. And anyway, out walking opens me up to seeing things I wouldn't see if I wasn't alone. It's double-edged sword perhaps.
But if I'm honest, I believe that even being part of a tribe can still leave a person feeling lonely sometimes. Loneliness is interesting. I've been trying to just let it be ... knowing there are so many lonely people in the world. In or out of relationships, surrounded by family or completely alone.
It makes me kinder. It makes me admire the older people I see, with their walking sticks and their slow shuffles, out shopping alone. I admire their courage. It makes me offer to help because I know I would appreciate it. And sometimes, like this morning, this lovely older woman and I ended up chatting ... about her sciatica.
But in Italy, in Genova, the people who perhaps understand most of all, are the barista's. I adore the ones I adore. Sometimes they save my day, after a night of bad dreams, when I wake alone in this life I am pursuing. Today, a lovely man gifted me a free espresso and gave me back my courage. It's that simple sometimes. It's that simple to be kind.
We don't talk of our loneliness. But we should. I'm sure I'm not the only one who is familiar with it.
I dislike being this honest :-) but I suspect it is needed in this world where we all prefer to seem like we're doing okay. And we are ... we are.
Buona giornata.
So Much Love ...
I took this photograph back in August 2016.
Today, I saw them again. I wanted to talk to them, so much. I walked past them, looking for someone who might speak English and act as a translator.
I met the kindest man. He agreed, and we asked if I might talk with them and tell a little of their story.
It wasn't possible but it was so beautiful to see them again, and see that same connection between them, as they walked along the street.
Grazie mille, to the guy who translated. I appreciate it so much.
It Was Love ...
These two didn't know each other before this meeting but still, they became such beautiful friends.
Two Beautiful Souls...
Above all, I know that life for a photographer cannot be a matter of indifference.. Robert Frank.
I love when I get to work as a photographer. There is so much joy to be found in the place where photographs happen.
And these guys, they were so kind, in allowing me to quietly follow them around, trying to capture something of their souls via my camera.
The Space Between ...
It's only just July and, already, it's been quite an unusual year ... full of exotic destinations, quiet happiness and quite some joy, disappointments, delightful people, family, and misunderstandings too.
It's Life, isn't it.
Today I finally stopped, just for a couple of weeks.
I have sorted, lifted, and shifted everything I own, getting rid of as much as I could, keeping in mind that I will have a place to 'furnish' in September.
I have lost, at least, 4kgs. This is not a bad thing. I am stronger, fitter, and browner than I've been in a while. On the other hand, I'm exhausted. The ankle I sprained a few weeks ago reminds me that I have been quite unfair with my demands on it, and it continues to puff up in protest. But I can walk on it and I'm grateful for that.
I said goodbye to my little sister, and her husband, yesterday morning. They're still flying today. The first leg of the journey was about 8 hours. The second is 17 hours. I was left wiping away a few sneaky tears as I strode off to finish emptying my room in the palazzo. I went via Douce, for a restorative espresso and a moment of calm before the lifting and shifting.
I had the loveliest time with them. Altogether, we got to spend 17 days catching up, talking, telling stories, eating and drinking when we could.
I saw the web in the photo above, when it was caught in the evening light. I found it beautiful.