Memory and resistance

"We should find a new way to tell, so that we might finally say something else." Jean-luc Godard


New England morning

It's nearing daybreak on this late August morning. A few clouds linger above the horizon. The sky grows brighter, and the glowing cirrus clouds promise another beautiful sunrise.

I feel her warmth next to me and slowly open my eyes. Her hair moves softly across my face, as the gentle breeze comes in from the west. Waves quietly lap the shore. In the distance, boats drift quietly on the glassy surface of the sea.




I cover her with the blanket and slowly walk down the sand. The cool morning water washes over my ankles. I take a long, deep breath.

The rituals of the morning bring calmness. Early morning cyclists make their daily trek down the road. I imagine the cool air rushing over the faces of shopkeepers as they open the doors for the morning. Gulls feed, fishermen head out to sea. Our favorite is the swim of the dolphins. Every morning, a couple dozen swim south, only to return north in the mid-afternoon.

As you walk up beside me, I cup my hands with the sea. Water cascades down my face, through my hair. I turn and put my arms around you. You smile, close your eyes and whisper to me.

Out beyond the waves an early morning swimmer moves slowly against the current.

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  • Eloge de l'amour
  • C Theory
  • Le Monde
  • Jean-Pierre Gorin (video)


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