The Desert is Always waiting for me
(My sweet M.)
Couple of weeks ago, when I was really not well I met one girl. For myself I always called her M (Margherita) even though it was not her name.
When I am in the state like this - emotional, delusional, somewhat erotic, I calm myself down with my photography. It is not a secret for people I know, but, the question is to me, could other people say from the pictures, how delusional I was.
When M wrote to me I was very delusional indeed. Having to take small vacations at work, I spent my days daydreaming about big Asia journey that awaiting for me this summer.
During hot April afternoon I dreamed about desert, sun, and euphoric high I have during my best shoots. No doubt though, that I would not manage to survive 10 days of such high, so I would need to decide on the working schedule.
"Hello", - she wrote, - "I am an experienced model from Moscow, I also like to style myself. Let's work together"
From my hot, delusional mind I thought I could her her voice, - low and deep as summertime jazz.
I knew immediately it is she - one girl I always dream about in April or October.
We kept on messaging through next few days and she appeared to be young Russian student from Ural, studying and modeling in Moscow.
"Some shots are boring, - she said, - but I have to make my living"
To Europe she came for her big love and also to educate herself in local culture.
I immediately won a point with my rather brutal French accent and our journey begun.
I have my favourite pass to show Lausanne to friends, so I decided to take this pass with her.
It was hot. Not late-August-in-Mountains hot, but hot enough to disorient me.
I kind of knew it. So I was talking to her about Lausanne to cover for my destruction. I also used child memories that, I knew for sure, we shared as we both grew up in poor conditions.
I talked to her as well about my new idea - city as a labyrinth. It was working well, I must say, as I was totally lost.
Lausanne is a city on three levels, if we always go down, we will come to the lake.
Heat grow over the noon and around 3 o'clock I found myself in a stone well of an old city. We went to the castle. I was unstoppable. I was high and happy and frustrated and forgotten, and she was my first childhood's friend teasing me.
I saw that she was tired, so I told her we are going to wrap up soon. She sound a bit disappointment as she wanted to see more tourist places in Lausanne, but for me, the well already started to close-up. I know I have to go home really soon.
When I escorted her to the elevator and explained in the most soft and kind of my voices, how to get to the station, I thought I saw panic in her eyes. I was wondering, while the elevator went down, if the well is clothing for her too.
If hot afternoon meant for her what it meant for me? Because she is younger and nicer and more funny than I had ever beet, but, I was wondering, does she know, as I know, intuitively, with pure feelings, that desert is always waiting?