At Night We Dreamed of Tall Ships
The city is like a great vessel with sails hoisted high every morning from each window. Flames of colour infused with sunlight against the clear blue of July sky, filled with swallows and air so warm it reaches out like a touch. People pass, wave upon wave, each in their own silent thought. Who would want to ever leave this state of wandering.
An immersion in the vivid moment of all that arrives and departs. The undertow of loss and longing, washed in like memory, caught in a hidden glance.
In responding to the invite to be a flâneur of Lisbon, I was interested in the constancy of the city as a fixed place, and the unique relationship of this city to a long history of navigation, of travelling out into the unknown. In Lisbon I walked a line between the land and the sea, because this place is both.