Monthly Archives: March 2012

he was never the same

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I have a feel­ing this day will be the new divid­ing line in my life, some­thing that was pre­vi­ously pre and post-kiss, and now also a sep­a­ra­tion between who I reached out to and who I didn’t call. And, oddly enough, this song will for­ever remind me of what hap­pened, some Canadian indie-rock hit from ’94 I had on repeat the whole day.

Things are going to be dif­fer­ent now, even though nothing’s changed. I just wish I knew what that meant.

the other side

Lila’s been my inspi­ra­tion lately. Her pho­tos are of such rou­tine sub­jects, but every frame is more than that moment. There’s some­thing about them that exudes glam­our and inti­macy, as if her entire life was filled with cham­pagne and Channel.

I asked her what the­ory she fol­lows, what equip­ment she uses, expect­ing to learn some basic tech­nique I’ve some­how missed. Instead, she tells me she doesn’t do or use any­thing spe­cial. She doesn’t even know what she sets for expo­sure and tone, cause she always plays around and changes them for every photo she takes. A true Taoist when it comes to pho­tog­ra­phy, and a true pho­tog­ra­pher after my heart.

lila

best birth­day ever.”, “coolest guy on the block”, “he is the one”, “London, I love you”.

One of my favourite sub­jects is her perfectly-coifed, impeccably-dressed Norwegian boyfriend. Sometimes he’s just lying by the win­dow, and with his shirt off you can make out the fab­ric creases that have marked his back, reveal­ing that he’s recently turned over on the bed. It makes you won­der what’s hap­pened, or what’s about to hap­pen. These are the details she’s cho­sen to cap­ture. These things were impor­tant enough for her to pick up her cam­era. There’s such affec­tion under it all, and per­haps that’s why it’s so fas­ci­nat­ing to see how the girl looks at the guy.

It’s the same with Aurora’s old entries:

Rolf is sit­ting a few feet away from me on a Sunday night and we’re about to play Settlers Of Catan online together. He’ll wake me with a kiss in the morn­ing and we’ll drive to work together. I’m full of a tasty new sup­per that he intro­duced me to. We’ve just fucked on the floor.

Do I love him? Or do I love this? How big is the difference?

I’ve always won­dered what a per­son would say if she ever wrote about me the way Aurora wrote about him. To see a lover learn­ing and grow­ing, fig­ur­ing out their life and the world, and dis­cov­er­ing what part I play in all of that.