For some reason, despite of the lack of excitements, I love this picture. I see the photographer, which is me, in the picture. People in pictures tell stories, as size comparison to landscapes, or they simply interest me.
One of Pierre and my favorite things to do is to shoot pictures together. I like the times when we can shoot without any pressure of a project or deadline. But being P, there is always some urgency to deliver. But for me, I like to have my pictures to happen naturally. It’s alright if they don’t happen.
After months and months of living together, I’ve grown to attach to P, in a good way. We get along, have fun. The only problem is that I tend to give up more of my time for us-time. Now that he’s on the road and I have the whole house to myself, the feeling of having so much space living as a single person immediately flushed back into my system with love and hate.
I love the freedom. Not having to be concerned about another person’s well being: did he eat dinner, does he want to watch a movie together, did he need me to help him with his project, blah blah blah. I love being able to work for a very long time without interruptions. I love being able to spend so much more time with my friends, to meet new friends, or to hang out at bars. However, I hate not having another person to share that great morning coffee with, pretty new shoes, a sad news… I hate the fact that I miss him terribly almost like going through an addiction withdrawal. Whether it’s love or hate, they don’t have to be obsolete. … Still, it’s better together.
Almost a week down and 3 more to go. … I’m not going to hold my breathe in the mean time. I’m going to improve my coffee roast, rowing fitness, plant a garden, and get more work done.