On home…

I got back to Mexico on a hot French day. I was tired of packing, planning my way to the airport, finding stuff to move, leave or throw away.
I had to leave London one week earlier eventhough I wanted to stay. Stay in bed. Stay calm, and above all, at peace.
Now, my problem lies on the fact that I was not sure about this peace. Is it a peace of mind? Is it a peace of heart? Is it peace of the soul? It became a non-peace… I still had to run; run back to France; to reality…
London went by blazingly fast… just as the rest of our lives.
Then came Paris. My heart-breaking goodbye. An “I’m too busy to care” type of goodbye. Just walking around taking photos at 7 in the morning, just as the sun came up to light up these shadows I’ve walked through…
Then packing and thinking what I’d done. I’d been around… thinking. About people not talking and feelings that make you stare speechless.
Thinking about the aesthetic ideal that just comes to mind; about its imperfections and the way a set of shadows could reveal it so mysterious and silent. The aesthetics of a muse that has yet to prove herself true. I know it; I can feel it coming….
It all came to an end as the sea of lights marked the sign I’ve known for the most part of my life. The largest city in the world. A true sea of lights that extends as far as your eyes can see.
And so another year’s passed by. With a bit of everything… fun, images, failures, friendships and just time. Another year that’s made me this being I am now.