I’ve literally chased the sun through an ocean yesterday. I watched the sun set on Quebec and I watched it rise on Bayern. I find it terribly poetic.
Landing into surrealism is a vivid experience. The edges of reality seemed blurry from all the physical trauma of a 10 hours flight and sleep deprivation and yet all feels more intense : the taste of coffee, of beer, the humidity through my bones, the ghost of the smell of cigarette smoke on basically everything (I had forgotten that about Europe)… There’s so much to hear, to see, to feel. The unshakeable question “is this real, for real?” is buzzing into my mind like a swarm of fruit flies. The faces are so real though, so tridimensional, and every new mimic from these faces is a discovery.
I love hearing these faces talk. Seeing the height of these bodies. Have you realized how under-exposed shoulder planes are on photographs? How a myriad of photos of an artist cannot ever tell you what their posture does? Seeing hands at work, what shoes they wear, how they sustain your gaze…
I’m sorry in advance for all these people I’m absorbing, right now. You are all as utterly fascinating as your work.
I’ve learnt more in one day than in 8 months of internetting. I am very grateful for all the knowledge shared with me. This trip is amazing and even hangovers are easier. For now. We will see about that in a couple of hours. Coffee seems like a fantastic idea though. Can’t wait to start /working/.
And no, I am not disappointed yet.