Archive Page 2

Back in One Place

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Free dinner at a gallery opening, Tuesday night.

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Picnic on Winnie’s terrace.

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Summer cottages, small little houses with giant gardens.

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The Icing on the Cake

It’s always nice to see someone who knows you from a different part of your life in a completely new place. Erin and I met in college, shared many bottles of wine together, a couple trips to New York, and those long conversations that never quite feel finished.

After school she moved to London to get her Masters in Photography at Sotheby’s.  This was the same time that I moved to New York, around January we were both feeling a bit lost.  So I went to London for a visit.

This visit was like coming full circle, last time it had been cold and unsettled with lots of wondering.  This time there were answers and specific destinations, favorite things to do, and people to meet, plus the sun shined the whole time.  Plus, something I always love to be around, everyone was just so grateful to be having the experience.  Pure happy.

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Back to Berlin for a Minute

Coming back was great, but after going every few days for the last few weeks the idea of staying put felt strange.  Especially without any work or immediate need to go.  So I slept in, checked my email more times than necessary, read up on some blogs, then found myself searching flight prices to go anywhere.

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The next day I headed out to catch a plane.

Meeting Up with AA in Amsterdam

My backpack was huge, I had a painting wrapped in some crumpled paper and a scarf, and I was ready to unpack.  When I arrived at the Ron Mandos Gallery in Amsterdam I was disoriented, not just from the early plane ride or only sleeping the night before but because this was the plan, the idea, the layout that we had been imagining for months.

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I walked through the forest room, noting how the trees had come together since they’d fallen apart on moving day.  The Cabaret Room wasn’t done yet and when I saw the worktable and the tools I knew, it was comforting.  Within a half hour I was back to working along side the other interns again, hearing all about the highs and lows of the weeks I’d miss.

“It must be completely different for you to see it, since you’ve been away.  You have kind of an outsiders perspective.”

It was different for me.  I had been so enveloped by my responsibilities as an intern but after Rome and non stop working when I got to Morocco my brain kind of put it aside to look at a bigger picture.  To be honest in my bigger picture, AA wasn’t nearly as important as I had made it during the work.

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I also felt quite guilty about abandoning the other interns, it was obvious they’d done a lot of hard work while I was gone.  When it’s 4am and you’ve been working since 10am, you share a kind of look with the person who’s been working along side you, I had lost the right to have this glance exchange and honestly I think it was that rather than the work that kept me going most of the time.

Check Out the Work

Although a few days later, on opening night, I think we all felt it.  We were proud and excited about finally getting to this moment we had worked towards for so long.  We enjoyed ourselves at the after party, complete with Dub step DJs and the crew from Fuck for Forest.

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Then it was time to part ways, Pedro on the train to Berlin, Serena, Winnie, and I in the car with the DJs, Sebastian stayed to visit some old friends, and Ford’s parents were meeting him to drive through France.  All of a sudden we were wearing clothes that weren’t covered in paint and baushaum and it was kind of weird.

Overwhelmed

So I have too many photos and not enough time to write the stories that go with them.  I had so much to tell about Morocco but ended up just throwing the photos up there since I had been back for over a month and have even more trips to blog about since then.  I also just arrived back in the states, so even more to tell.  I’m going to try to catch up but it may take a while.  Luckily I’ve been keeping up with putting things on Flickr so, check out what your missing there.

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Casablanca You Weren’t My Favorite

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Beautiful Blues

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Marrakesh to Essouaira

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Marrakesh

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Barefoot in the Djemaa el Fna

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One of the many performers in the Djemaa el Fna (market square in Marrakesh)  it was hard to photograph them without being hasseled for money but I was pretty happy with this hip shot.

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When I was a little girl my father had a friend that came to visit us at our cabin in the woods.  I remember she was very beautiful in a way that was completely new to me; she wasn’t pretty like my class mates who had the coolest clothes or glamorous like the movie stars who effortlessly moved about the screen.  It was more like the beauty of my Mother, more truthful but hers was new and unfamiliar.

I don’t remember what she looked like but I remember she could walk barefoot across glass.  In my mind that became the answer to her beauty and mystery, it also became a vivid image that I can always look back on.  The following fall I vaguely remember telling a teacher that when I grew up I wanted to be a woman that could walk on anything.

While we were in Morocco I had some strange dreams, most of which left me with more ideas than exact images, but one of the dreams included walking on glass and this woman who amazed me so much as a little girl.  After the Hammam we went to the Djemaa el Fna where we rather spontaneously decided to get some henna.  We did not however think about how long the henna would need to sit and/or how cold the air would become in the next half hour.  So as they finished the Berber deigns and the sun went down we realized we’d have to find a place to sit for a while and we’d need to find it without putting our shoes on.

Now, as a kid I was barefoot everywhere and as an adult I take pleasure in grass between my toes in the right places.  As a girl who went to school in the city and has seen a few too many people use the subway as a toilet wearing flip flops in a city makes me a tad uncomfortable (too thin soled and open).  However, traveling changes the rules even if you didn’t think you had many.  Before I knew it I was walking across glass, laughing with my Sister, and appreciating the Moroccan street cleaners.

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Back at the Riad, playing with my flash and the bright orange of my freshly washed feet.

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Our Riad, gorgeous.

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