I want to tell you about all the places I’ve been. I want to be able to express the feeling of walking on a cold Vancouver street at 6 am and recalling so strongly a similar walk one September morning in Paris that for a moment, I am transported to the cracked and heaving sidewalks of boulevard Richard-Lenoir. I want to, but the more I think about how to say these things, the more I think I need to create new words to properly convey my memories. There is no adjective to accurately describe the smudgey white grey colour of the winter sky in Sofia, Bulgaria. There is no word for the feeling that comes over you when, for the first time, you are asked to stand in line at an immigration check point with citizens who hold passports from allegedly undesirable countries; in the past eight years, I have searched for a way to explain what it was like to see the world through the eyes of people that bureaucracy considers to be of second class for the first time, but I have never found a way to sum up the poignancy of recognising my own privilege for the first time while at once feeling grateful for and utterly outraged by it. Even my own country, which should in theory feel like home, continues to surprise me in every new place that I visit. I had never been to Victoria before this past December, it turns out – my mom let me know my memories of 1986 are not quite as strong as I had imagined. I have lived in Vancouver for ten years without ever visiting the provincial capital, a place whose historical significance and present importance I have, it turns out, vastly underestimated. I knew that as soon as I set foot on the grounds of the British Columbia legislative building, a looming stone behemoth, the likes of which simply doesn’t exist in the city I call home. I wish that I could tell you about all the places I’ve been as much as I wish that my feet could tell you all the paths they have walked. I remember my travels in shoes; the boots that accompanied my on my first move to Paris in 2009 remain favourites, though I had to get rid of them years ago, after wearing through both heels, because of all the places they took me. Since then, I have always associated new boots with new adventures. I picked out these Le Chateau boots just before our visit to Victoria, which felt only too appropriate, and they were perfect for walking all over the city. It’s a shame they can’t tell you about Victoria from their own perspective, but for now, it seems, we’ll all have to settle for my filling in the blanks where words fail me with mementos from the one thing I do take with me that can tell it’s own story – my camera.
#celine #chanel #lechateau #zara