Today, I was walking around the town of Antibes. I’ve been there many times before, but this time I’m a totally different person and so I see it with a different perspective. Every time before, I’ve seen the beauty of the French Mediterranean style streets. What you’d expect to see when you think of the French Riviera. The combination of red brick, and white stone dotted with green shrubs and vines growing through the cracks. Low archways, grey cobblestones and freshly painted wooden doors and shutters in bright colours. Many streets look as pretty as a picture, you’d think that France had not moved on from the past.
But I couldn’t help seeing it in a different light this time… I feel like it could be akin to how you would see your partner after many years of marriage. The intense colours were fading with age. Paint was peeling off old wooden shutters, balcony railings were rusting over in certain places and rendered walls had cracks and holes from wear over time. Not every street is so picturesque, and these parts of the town were starting to become very noticeable to me. She looked as if she was not aging gracefully, but rather trying tiredly to keep herself looking as she always had.
On my walk out of the town, I started to notice the thrown together look of the place. It reminded me of some places in Asia that I’d travelled to. Wires everywhere, hardly any space to walk on the side of the street, and the oddly bright colours of street signs interrupting the old architecture. Every day modern life being plastered onto a place that is romanticised so often for being old. Instead of ignoring these parts and seeing it as a practical necessity, I started to take photographs.
I wanted to explore these parts of France, the ones that are not often photographed in marketing for tourism. If there is beauty in everything, then why must I only focus on the part of the town that accorded with my unrealistic view? I felt a little uneasy, walking around and looking for things that I had not noticed before… and I still haven’t figured out what I’d like to do here, but it’s been an interesting exercise.
Just like an old marriage… I know that this town has something to offer me within the hidden parts of her. The parts that have aged over time, been neglected or ignored, been subject to brazen, practical changes as the times have moved on. Where there is change, there is something interesting to observe… and when we observe something interesting, we can also decide to see it as beautiful in its own way. Perhaps it could even be likened to looking in a mirror.
As we age with time, our own landscape changes. We need not always repaint, redecorate and reach for what we were many years ago. How can we look at ourselves and find the beauty not only on the inside, but also on the outside?
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