The world is blue at its edges and in its depths. This blue is the light that got lost. Light at the blue end of the spectrum does not travel the whole distance from the sun to us. It disperses among the molecules of the air, it scatters in water.
Water is colorless, shallow water appears to be the color of whatever lies underneath it, but deep water is full of this scattered light, the purer the water the deeper the blue. The sky is blue for the same reason, but the blue at the horizon, the blue of land that seems to be dissolving into the sky, is a deeper, dreamier, melancholy blue, the blue at the farthest reaches of the places where you see for miles, the blue of distance. This light that does not touch us, does not travel the whole distance, the light that gets lost, gives us the beauty of the world, so much of which is in the color blue.
"Maybe the place you’re born and raised is like a mirror and you can see things as they really are, or see yourself as you have really become, only in that one place. Although in a completely unfamiliar place you’ve never been to before you can see the same thing, the truth of the self, from a different perspective."
"I’m excited about continuing to travel and expand the definition of home - home is more a state of mind or a feeling than a particular place - home can be another person, and ideally home should be one’s self."
last year, i've been lucky enough to meet Guy Blakeslee, who plays under the name Entrance.
when he asked to contribute to my project Long Way From Home, i was honored.
and this is seriously my favorite interview.
Guy sent me some photos of his home
and when he was in Paris, Marion Berrin took some portraits under the winter sun.