When we've arrived some place, especially if it's new (to us) or we've traveled long distances, I always ask myself "Why am I here? Why have we devoted our time and resources to be here, visiting this place?'" We don't love jet-lag, unfamiliar beds, and the lack of direction, plus we miss our cat. So, why?
The question lingers throughout the journey and every time we do it, I feel myself getting closer to... asking a better question. Always approaching but never arriving. Cliche as it sounds, it's truly the moments in between that feed our wanderlust. It's a discovery of ourselves in a new city, speaking a different language, engaging in different contexts.
It's a step back and a step closer. It's watching the man religiously feeding the pigeons, it's figuring out if finding the entrance to the gallery at the Tate Modern is an exhibit in itself, it's realizing yourself in the escalator "tube" at the Pompidou. It's watching the watcher and enjoying children chasing bubbles in a busy square. It's taking a quiet ferry and time to stroll through the Tulleries not knowing where you're going.
It's the loss of familiarity and the acceptance of being in those moments, that make us more prepared to return home again.
One Minute of Moments
I put this video together to acknowledge those random yet substantial moments in an attempt to linger in that time, but also explore the origin of that wanderlust and curiosity. I'm still working on articulating it.
We could be any of these characters. You could be the man with the birds, the lovers, the crowds or the tour group. I could be you. You could be me.
Music is "We Move Lightly" by Dustin O'Halloran.
Thoughts on the implications of creative efforts and the customers we work with.