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  • Writer's pictureJean-Francois Podevin

A California dream.

Updated: Sep 1, 2021

Barbara and I revisited a place near San Diego, California, a place caught in time, between the lightness of the days we first met, and the eve preceding the dark polar night before we would meet again.

We came back to hope to find the moment when we wished this would last forever. We were full of excitement at the anticipation of rebreathing the eternal blue sky that colored our happiness, and the dread that it might not be there anymore.

The parallel images of this recollection superimpose themselves like Photoshop layers. Only fragments of a reality that made it across time are leftover of what was. What is bygone is gossamer, fleeting, blurred, the ghost of a memory worn out by the passing of time, materialized only by what has remained. The slanted red white and blue intervals that borders the "par avion, air mail" letter/envelope," that we wrote to each other each day , captures this special time like a butterfly in a net.

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