Change, Goodbyes, etc
Hi, my love. My head is on upside down because I’m just returning from a whirlwind 24 hour ish trip back to Giverny for the“Is It Right?” music video. I drove myself, José, director Lyon and director of photography Flip the 6.5 hour drive each way. Got in Saturday at 2 am, slept a few hours, then shot all day. Just got back to Hamsterdance this Sunday around 4 ish.
(I am sleepy.)
(But the video is well worth it.)
I’ll be able to share it with you eventually (and if you presave you will find the song itself right in your music library when it comes out on Friday!), but here is an iPhone photo to give you a taste in the meanwhile.
The whole of Giverny is magnificent, but we envisioned the bulk of the shoot around an overwhelmingly gorgeous sea of yellow flowers we found on my Mom’s birthday trip.
At some point while we were brushing our teeth this week José mused that it would be a beautiful place to shoot a video before we left Europe. So we called king Lyon and pulled the whole thing together in a few days (owning the label is the best, highly recommend), only to find the flowers gone upon return.
(Obviously they were only there as my mom’s birthday present.)
(So now we know that my mom also controls the weather/nature!)
In any event, due to their devotion to my mom’s birthday, the field of flowers was now an endless sea of undulating grain.
The team was a little sad about this. Me, not so much. I know by now: I don’t love it, I don’t even like it, but profound beauty comes from change.
So we recalibrated together and I walked far into that undulating sea of grain. The air moved through each grain stalk, the entire field alive together. I have no idea what the frack this grain is, but its feathery stalks moved in the wind like sea anemones.
The whole thing gave the feeling of being both above and under water.
I don’t love it, I don’t even like it, but profound beauty comes from change.
We are leaving Amsterdam soon, moving out of this perfect haven of an apartment on Wednesday. We fly to Tokyo on Friday. I’ve barely packed and honestly have too many feelings about the whole thing to put it into words. I probably have a lot of tears to cry, and it does seem obvious that I’m filling every moment to avoid some of them.
It’ll hit me eventually. Until then, I’m focusing my remaining moments on this city’s beauty.
Upon landing here we realized we lived on an iconic street, one that silly TikTok influencers come to as a destination. I had to fight my New York bitchy attitude, as I, too, made use of the street… it made for a pretty solid-noveau-setting-for-photos-a-la-my-orchard-portraits-of-the-past.
We began with this one, of me from the first day we could leave our quarantine. Amsterdam under strict lockdown. I still wore a mask outside then, biked all through the city in it. I couldn’t shake the trauma from my bones, still can’t sometimes.
We settled in. Made a home of it, even.
Eventually I found a thrifted suede coat for 10 euros that really did it for me.
I met perfect people, like Tete, Ben, Iris, Tisha, you. Learned how to bake with much more quality ingredients.
(which, shockingly, was an adjustment?! how will I ever go back now!? help!)
(speaking of, a bish is moving. I have a lot of baking things that I won’t be packing. Do you live in Amsterdam? Do you want them? Let me know in the comments?!)
I baked a lot. And I wore the fuck out of that coat.
The coat is torn now, somehow it happened in Giverny and feels fated to some extent. I’ll leave it here like I’ll leave most things here.
The trees on that famed street all have leaves now (the weekly nature of taalitalk doesn’t quite work with the speed of disposable cameras). In my final week here I celebrated my birthday in Vondelpark, baked a mint chocolate chip cake to celebrate. Ben and Tete brought charcuterie and geese pooped all over my pretty dress.
I’ll leave it here like I’ll leave most things here.
Things I’ll leave. The city will stay with me.
(Another thing I’ve learned in this whole shitshow.)
In my final week here I also celebrated my birthday by tying balloons to my bike, which, since I have now done it two years in a row, I am calling a tradition.
Last year the city was empty for my balloon bike. This year it was full of tourists.
(Maybe the first and only time I’ll ever miss lockdown?!)
(How’s THAT for irony)
(What a wild, wild, experience, to meet and learn this city when it was completely empty)
(And leave it when it’s completely full)
I had to go home earlier this time because all the humans were too overwhelming.
This week, man. All of it all at once.
I don’t love it, I don’t even like it, (and right now I truly fucking hate it), but profound beauty comes from change.
And I am ready for some of that beauty, or at least I know I can keep walking until I’ve found it.
We got here broken, and you and this city held us as we put the pieces back together. We’ll leave as little kintsugi humans, the gold illuminating all our supposed cracks.
(A Leonard ref would be great here, you’re not wrong)
(But I can’t quite type it, it just feels too obvious)
(Thank you for being here with me now and every week)
(I adore you)
More next week.
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