10.4.12

When Were You Young?

Lo que dan tres años por América en una clásica japonesa...

 

 I may find these words spat in my face by a cynical teenager in a future that draws nearer; “yeah right, when were you young?” I made this short movie to prove beyond doubt I once was. While old friends empty themselves into mortgages and chlorinated backyard swimming pools, I have held tightly to the selfish pursuit of adventure and inward discovery, mostly on wild back roads, cutting deep switchbacks through the american west. I’ve slept on strangers couches, built and wrecked motorcycles, played loud music in crowded bars, drunkenly vomited on the streets of Hollywood, swam naked in mountain lakes and prayed with nuns in desert monasteries. As time sweeps past and vanishes behind me, an assimilated, impotent adulthood heaves itself through the ephemeral mist of youth, my restlessness pounded away by the vicissitudes and tides of everyday life. Someday even I may not believe my horizions were once so limitless. It’s a mystery to me now what these images might mean to me then.

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