The waves are washing over half forgotten memory.
Deep within the moment, laughter floats upon the breeze,
Rising and falling, dying down within me.
And I swear I never knew, I never knew how it could be.
And all this time, all I had inside was what I couldn’t see.
I swear I never knew, I never knew how it couldn’t be.
All the waves are washing over all that hurts inside of me.
Beyond this beautiful horizon lies a dream for you and I.
This tranquil scene is still unbroken by the rumours in the sky.
There’s a storm closing in, voices crying on the wind.
The serenade is growing colder, breaks my soul that tries to sing.
There’s so many, many thoughts when I try to go to sleep,
But with you I start to feel a sort of temporary peace.
There’s a drift in and out, drift in and out,
Drift in and out, drift in and out,
Drift in and out, drift in and out,
Drift in and out, drift in and out,
Drift in and out, drift in and out,
Drift…”
[ Temporary Peace – Anathema ]
This is how I spent my Valentine’s Day: out at the beach taking photos with my mom.
I needed some time before I got back at editing these pictures because it was a strangely emotional day. We went there to pay a visit to the tomb of our cat Murka and then went for a walk looking for some photographic ideas (and dropping both our lens caps in the sand, yay). I don’t really know how these two photos came out, but in some ways they were very cathartic. I was already in a gloomy Anathema mood after shooting The Lost Child and the sound of the waves, the wind and the murky sky amplified it. Plus, visiting my cat’s tomb felt a bit strange: it was the first time I got the feeling there was actually someone buried there, that if I dug I could still find her body there. I understood what they mean when they say tombs are made for the living, to give them a faint connection to the dead and make them feel closer.
I’m still missing Murka badly and I was that afternoon, too, but there was some sort of cold comfort in thinking we have a special place to remember her by. And after all, I was still there with my mom doing one of the things we love the most – photography – and we have countless memories of Murka to share and warm our heart with. It felt refreshing after a whole week of apathy: I’m not very good at connecting with my feelings and photography is one of the few things that helps me do so, especially when people I love are involved. Perhaps that’s the reason why it felt so liberating to hand my camera to my mom and have her picture my feelings while I was humming the song. That moment didn’t felt lonely or painful because we put our feelings into the photos and let go a bit of the hurt.
This is why, after editing the photos, I decided to wait a couple more days and publish them today, which is my mom’s birthday: it’s beautiful to have someone always to count on, to know we can always comfort each other not only with words, but just by sharing these moments.
I love you, mom.
I love you, mom.