Vita da fotografo

Winter in America by Nicolas Pascarel | Photo Exhibition 2016

  • date
  • 22 May 2016

Photo Exhibition in Naples Italy May-September 2016

Winter in America

Hey Baby,

I found the place. Yes. The place for us. A little piece of heaven, as lovers say. On the top of a tower. A cement tower. All up there. Great views. I chose it for you, just for you. Just for us. Because I know it. I know that we shall embrace in the wind and watch the ocean at every sunset. You, who so much love the sea, you, who so much love my kisses, you, who so much love my follies. So I rented it. For an instant. Like in a dream. I rented it for the night. For a kiss. As once upon a time.
But once upon a time doesn’t exist anymore and I remained alone,
waiting in the night. I saw the sun set and then midnight blue, and then night-at-all. The lights turned on. Those of the city. And then all the lights … even those surrounding the oil refinery far away, so far away. And dawn showed up without you and with me, alone. I have exhausted all my cigarettes and the bottles of Chilean wine are empty now.
I miss you, Baby. A lot. All this was for you, for us. So I took it for rent another night, waiting for you to come baby …

 

Hey Baby,

There are only a few minutes to midnight, the famous 00.00, the last of 1984 and I am still in the tower. Yes! Up there, curled up like a condor. I look at the ocean, still nothing. I expect that a car slows down my 22 floors like a plane on the tarmac, you get out, your legs, then your princess bag and you throw a glance in the air, up there, as in a black and white film, but nothing. Nothing, baby. So I come back to look at the night. I’ve prepared my comfort for tonight, if not quite my trench. I bought a carton of Marlboro and a few bottles of Chilean wine I immediately put in the fridge. Tonight I can hold out, sure. My lips are placed on the edge of the window facing the ocean. This way they will be salted when you will be here. They are waiting for you, just you, they are waiting for us. You can see, I have prepared everything, everything you love. You did not tell me the time, not even the day, let alone the month. The year? We do not care. Nothing matters! I have already planned everything, Baby. In winter I will place my lips to the edge of the window and put a sweater to keep warm. In summer, I would stay shirtless, cause I can still afford it, and when autumn will arrive, I should try not to catch a cold. It would be a shame to catch a cold when you’ll be here, so I’ll pay attention to me, as you often repeat “Take care of you, Nico”.
And I take care of me, baby, my way, but I do it. I don’t want to lose you, I don’t want to lose myself.


Hey Baby

It’s May 6th, 1985. Days, nights, weeks and even months passed, still nothing. Everything passes except you. My neighbors are worried, they keep asking me what I expect. I explained them I’m waiting for you, just you but they do not understand. Rather, I realized everything the first time I saw you. Therefore, I’m still here at the top of the tower, my head placed on the salted glasses. So I wait. I do not get enough, it would be crazy to get tired of you. Now I get quickly delivered Chilean wine and Marlboros, the guy knows me, he comes twice a week to stock me up. Waiting. Summer is coming for sure, I can see it from the morning mist, everything is white or almost, it’s hot, already very hot. Fortunately I’m up there on the 22nd floor, lot of steps, lot of winds come banging each evening on the edge of the window. An air-flow has come through. I thought it was you… but it was just time and wind passing tirelessly. Never mind! I’m not impatient. No, I look at the city in the meantime. Now I know all the colors of the morning and also those of the evening. Je t’aime baby and I’m waiting for you.

Text Nicolas Pascarel
http://nicolaspascarel.tumblr.com/
https://www.facebook.com/nicolaspascarelphotography


winter in America italiano winter in america
winter in america français

winter in america by nicolas pascarel

winter in america by nicolas pascarel


Salva

Salva

Salva

Salva



© Nicolas Pascarel 2017