All the Words

Nice Words from Nice

Words don’t come easy, like rain in the desert, a drought of our own making, messengers without agency, idling, hidden, their purpose obscured by veils of time; we search, we seek, we grasp for meaning, in fleeting moments of rare clarity, they pour forth without warning, all the words, a well, rich and deep, the mind races, ink flows like a river, a sea of prose, we feast our eyes, yet when it’s done, we’re seldom pleased and rebuke the crude dish before us, too much of this, too little of that, it won’t do, and so we start over.

Tuesday, 17:11h. As I return from Nice, typing these first 100 words, the ocean is zooming past outside.

Train with a view, Tuesday 17:11h

The train sways gently, and I with it, a rhythm irresistible. We speed up, slow down, we pass through tunnels on rails that lead us to our destination: Home. Not for another five hours. Time to read, write, watch or sleep; do things while the world rushes by in wet streaks of grey. The weather is abysmal. I watch frantic raindrops hurrying across in streams outside the window, eager to be set free and fly with the wind again—five more hours.

Circles can be clicked for more info. The ocean view above was taken at 94km/h.

For now, the seat next to me remains empty. More space, a luxury. Everyone talks in hushed voices, shrill dings of disturbance from a phone command immediate attention, and heads turn towards the culprit, the interloper, now talking with a guilty look to the instigator. Always connected, why—I even have a socket next to me, and need it, too, because my battery is dead.

Quiet, yet not quiet, people cocooned in their prophylactic personal space, here a man on his phone, scrolling, scrolling, lots of those scrolling subjects. There, a woman playing a three-match game on her laptop. Here, another trying to find a good position to sleep, her head resting against the window, as if listening to the lulling hum of the train, minutes later she gives up and takes out her phone. I see no one with a book.

I could take out my War & Peace and read. The light is almost gone outside, and into the darkness, we rush past Marseilles and onwards to Avignon... sur le pont¹, OK, no singing…

Reflection

I could talk about how far behind I am on recording War & Peace, but I prefer not to, or about how I have yet to write a single word of Samuel Carter Part Three, but I prefer not to, and then there’s Elodie Dubois, waiting, waiting to catch her killer, she will have to wait, because… yes, you have guessed, I prefer not to. Now that the lecture is done, I prefer to focus on my novel and finish it. I shall write all the words. I have to.

But first, some Shōgun. I have only watched one episode and found it very good. Still haven’t read the novel, though. And after Shōgun… no, focus, write. No distractions. Breathe words onto the page, page after page, until it’s done. It will be nice.

And Nice? Yes, Nice was nice, too. Albeit, the weather wasn’t for the most part. I did manage to catch a sunset, though, and while this isn’t FotoFriday, I hope you don’t mind if I add a few phone snapshots from my Nice trip here.

Cap 3000 Beach, Nice, Sunday 18:46h

This beach was a 30-minute walk along the highway from my hotel. There was a restaurant nearby I wanted to try, which was closed, of course. Behind me is a big mall (pictured below), to the left is the airport and ten kilometres further down is Old Nice, which I didn’t visit this time. In the end, I ate Tapas in the mall. It was OK. The restaurant had a sunset terrace (at the top in the image below, above the umbrellas), which was nice.

Full Moon Mall — Cap 3000, Nice, 18:53h

It’s a big mall, boring, and one of the few places that was open on a Sunday within walking distance.

Cap 3000 Mall, Nice

But it was getting late and cold, and I didn’t bring a jacket, so I headed back to the hotel on foot, along the highway, under a full moon. I wasn’t the only one, though. Some were on bikes, some were running, and I was walking. I could have grabbed a bike right there on the highway.

Highway Lime, 19:29h

I was halfway already at that point, so no bike, keep on walking. Take more pictures, like the one below, two minutes later.

Night Running

I prefer to walk around new places instead of getting into a taxi or bus etcetera. I like to explore on foot. Stay curious. Let yourself be surprised. Can’t do that if you zoom about from place to place. Slow down every once in a while.

Back at the hotel, because the night was still young, I took out the laptop, edited my audio recording of War & Peace – B1, P2, Chapter 19, and posted it shortly before midnight. And then… no, that’s it. I had started my Sunday at 6 am, travelled far, walked further, and now fell into a dreamless slumber.

Monday and Tuesday were filled with 128 slides on Narrative Design in Video Games, a Crash Course in Prototyping in Twine and workshopping, and then it was time to catch the train back to Paris, hoping to be able to write a few words, which brings us right back to the beginning, where a hundred words have turned into one thousand, raw, unedited. All the words.

“Words do not express thoughts very well. They always become a little different immediately after they are expressed, a little distorted, a little foolish.”
—Hermann Hesse

1. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sur_le_Pont_d%27Avignon