Maybe
the best part
of the end of summer
is the first night
without AC nor fan.

To sleep in silence
for the first time 
in 3 months
is an indescribable pleasure.

clara

Memento

May this post become a memory. 

When I look back in 6 months, a year.

May this post become a memory of a time

when I would try and take him out of the house,

have him take his mind off of things, 

and he'd inevitably end up talking about wanting to kill himself because life with this much pain is not worth living.

May this become a memory,

no longer a reality,

and may it be soon,

please. 

 

 

Clara 

 

 Birthdays.

When the summer runs on its last legs,

the family birthdays start.

This was number 1

 

 

Father and daughter 

Father and daughter and me.

 

These pictures make me think about pictures I've seen of the Lion King's parents and friends when they were young, and pictures of my father and uncles & aunts with my grandparents, who both died when my father was still very young. 

I can imagine people looking at our pictures in 50 or even 100 years the way I look at those pictures in black and white, of people I've never known,

from another time,

and that somehow were so very alive,

while they've been dead for so long now,

on the verge of being forgotten.

 

Or I think of the pictures of the Lion King from little over a year ago,

when we had no idea yet that he had cancer.

But today is today.

Here and now. 

And it was a good day.

Let's focus on that.

 

Clara 

 

 "How is Boebelien?" my friend asked. "You haven't sent me pictures since the beginning of summer."

 That's because I have barely seen her all summer. She gets up in the evening, spends all night outside and goes to sleep again in the morning.

Basically like a cranky teenager.

 

And I have tried to make pictures of her, all summer, but she literally hasn't stood or sit up for more than 5 seconds straight, so this is all I got:

 

 All joking aside... Summer here has been interminable and atrocious.

For people and  for cats.

Clara 

 Not having any work to do, is quite stressful...

But it has its perks...

 

Clara 

Rant

 Last week, my (almost only remaining) translation client said:
"I feel like you're always out and about lately"
meaning that I'm not at home working.

And although at the moment itself,
as usual,
I was too baffled to really answer anything,
I felt angry about it for almost a week.

Except I didn't know what I was angry about.
That she's not the boss of me. I'm a freelancer, she can exploit me in any way she wants,
but as long as I get the job done in time, I don't owe her any explanation about where or when I work.

That for the past 4-5 months The Lion King is almost unable to walk, he has been officially declared 100% disabled. Hopefully it's temporary, but it is where we stand now.
That means I have to accompany him everywhere he needs to go. Lots of medical appointments. But also, if I sit at my desk and work all day every day, he has to stay at home as well. Locked inside, because the heat outside is unbearable.
So yes, we go to the beach on weekdays. We go to the mall, because there's AC.
Yes, she may be a complete workaholic, but I have more and other responsibilities and other people to take care of.

But yes, also, because she's right. F*cking artificial intelligence is eating away all work opportunities and I can't seem to find a new niche, can't seem to reinvent myself and attract new clients and more income.
And it's frustrating and worrying.

So I may as well be out and about.

clara

 So last year we were at the beach and the man next to us had this beautiful tattoo on his back.
For those who know Naples, that's not just a fantasy castle, it's the Maschio Angioino :

So yes, I asked if I could make a picture of it.

And for those who know, Neapolitans like tattoos.
I'd guess that at least one in three people has a tattoo (I have a small one myself).

And I don't even really know why, but I started photographing back tattoos on the beach.
Knowing how timid I am by nature,
you can imagine this was far outside my comfort zone. 
Every time I had to ask if I could make a picture
and I can guarantee you that men with back tattoos often are not the most approachable species on earth.
And I let a couple of them go because I didn't have the balls to ask them.

But noone ever said no.
It's their back, so their face is not in it, 
therefore they are fine with it.
And also,
I think,
if you have such a gigantic work on your back,
you usually are proud of it, right?
So most people were flattered when I wanted to make a picture.

Today (yes, we went to the beach on a Wednesday - again)
I noticed that I actually wanted to ask more.
"How long have you had it?"
"What's the meaning behind it?"
"How long did it take to make this masterpiece?"
...
I realized my comfort zone has been stretched out quite a bit.
Therefore,
the end of summer will be the end of the experiment.

But here are some of the prettiest :

 

Clara