There was a time when films could destroy a bunch of mem­o­ries or .….… made them more mag­ic.

It is about 15 years ago when I vis­it­ed Cal­i­for­nia. In Los Ange­les the film of my cam­era cov­ered every­thing in blue and gave all pic­tures a mys­tic atmos­phere. It was a morn­ing at venice beach and I did­n’t see any of these blonds with the red bathing cos­tumes. There was just this man med­i­tat­ing in the mid­dle of the fresh­ly plain beach. In the back you can see the cab­in of the life-guards but also the smog of the city. Some of the expe­ri­ences at that time set the seeds to come again. The Pacif­ic was one of them.

Final­ly I have a room in LA. That’s a per­fect start, isn’t it?

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Mehr in Along the Pacific Coast, California, Gedanken, Nordamerika, USA

Zumindest fühlt es sich so an, aufgeregt bin ich, als ob ich auf eine Bühne müsste. Ich kenne es ja bereits, dass ich nach längerem Nichtfliegen ein wenig nervös bin...