off sea'son
Thus I became a mad man, and found both freedom and loneliness, and the safety from being understood. For those who understand us, enslave something in us
The sea. My two weeks summer holidays with mum in the not-so-transparent northern Adriatic sea, in the same hotel, with the same german tourists, the same french dressing on white cabbage, the same summer friends, the same luna park at night, the same blue smurf ice cream. Every year, I miss it. But I used to meet the sea only in summer. When I moved to Rome, I could easily take a train and in 30 minutes dip my feet in those salty murky waters of the Tyrrhenian sea. And I started to fall in love with the sea off sea’son. Especially on gloomy days, when winds fiercely swept away the nonsense thoughts my urban life shaped. I started to document my feelings on those days, and imagine the ones of the few people I met. The sea off sea’son strips off what is not needed, bringing us back to basics. Wish my mind was a sea off sea’son.
