because none of us is fucking up like we think we are, is what i'm trying to say

Colour Blocking.


Sanremo is known as la Cittá dei Fiori- The City of Flowers. The company HQ is there, and so nomadic friends who hop from Italian town to Italian town teaching- just like me- inevitably end up drifting through. This means at least once a week I veritably launch myself onto the coastal-routed train to head the hour north so that I can get read to and drink too much spritz.


I met said friends for lunch last week, and on my way to the restaurant was struck by the colours in the city. I guess when I was there in June I was so busy trying to adheare to my code of conduct that I forget to notice them. EXCEPT NOT REALLY BECAUSE SANREMO HAS THE BESTEST MEMORIES OF ALL THE MEMORIES EVEN WITHOUT THE PRETTY BLOOMS SO WHATEVER, NATURE/EXPENSIVE GARDENERS.

I took some time to photograph what evidently I spent all of last month missing, because I knew when I returned tomorrow I'd only have eyes for one thing. CALUM.

With my best friend around, those flowers will pale in comparison. 


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