There’s not a lot of photos of me as a teenager, due to me being extremely camera shy. In fact, the only photos that exist of me from that time are the ones my best friend took - when it came to capturing me, she had the unassailable monopoly.
And she made shameless use of it, usually catching me at the most unglamourous moments, when I least expected it or looked my absolute worst. Maybe that was her revenge on me, for habitually shouting, out of the blue, “don’t move!” and making her sit still whenever her pose struck me as absoluty neccesitating a drawing of her…
Although she isn’t actually on the picture, to me, this one is about our friendship. It’s about me, but the me I was in relation to her. This is where it gets complicated… so when I think back and miss that time, is it her I am missing, or the me I was back then when we were together? And can I be that same person here and now, without her? Or is that part of me lost forever?
This photo was taken on one of the holidays we took together… we’d take a train to a little alpine town to escape our lives for a little while. There we'd have writing marathons, play guitar, go for walks - and make each other laugh. Life was as it should be. And I hoped one day it would be, I even pictured us living together.
Well, of course, as we grew up and acquired boyfriends and chose different paths in life, that didn’t quite happen. But maybe in an alternative universe we’re still sitting in that flat, sipping tea, unburdened by the future, wrapped in blankets, and watching Woodstock on an old TV.