Naples' Children / the sea / the sun

tumblr_mc7sf17dq81qznevxo1_1280-1 copy.jpg

Written on a spring 2013 trip to Napoli with my husband, Rian, a man who could point out the brightest spark of life in the darkest corner with eagle eye precision. He had a penchant for passion and color and beauty unrivaled by anyone I’ve met in my life, yet he was soft spoken and bookish, content mostly to admire the masterpieces of life in quiet contemplation. When he imparted historical details to us it was always in a storyteller’s voice, transporting you back in time, until you almost felt as though you had experienced the battles or the love affairs or great triumphs and small defeats your self, centuries ago.

With Naples it was simply impossible for us to truly tire of the dark, craggy, cramped, decaying alleyways of Napoli. Because we found find them so beautiful. What is that expression? Life in the streets. But that’s not subtle enough. That has no emotion. No color. No fragrance. I’m just an American who falls in love with corners of places. Pages in books. The picture I see in everything. What do I know about it? Not much. But I loved it all the same. We loved it together. Without him I have yet to return, but I know in my heart I still love it because our love for it together could not burn away, not ever, not even in the deep void I hold within due to his earthly absence. I’m returning again soon I hope, because of love, because of him, and because of beauty. The hope of beauty, and the beauty of hope.

IMG_3071.jpg
tumblr_mdgm80uff61qznevxo1_1280 copy.jpg

I photographed a little group of 11-13 year old Neapolitan boys smoking on the beach for the first time after they robbed a sweets cart of cigarettes like in some 1950s or 1960s Truffaut or Fellini film. The unofficial leader of the gang, a tall blond boy, taught the other boys how to smoke after they bummed cigarettes off a pair of kissing teenagers, and robbed a food cart and cafe of crisps and chocolates. Later we happened upon some typical boys playing football in the corner of a small piazza. The scent of coffee carried on the sea air, the salt so thick you can taste it on your tongue, and we searched for a restaurant in this gastronomical paradiso.

IMG_3155.JPG
tumblr_mdgmimmcup1qznevxo1_1280 copy.jpg
IMG_4350.JPG
IMG_3026.jpg
IMG_3092.JPG
IMG_3086.JPG