By the third destination, I was travelling to a country that needed very little introduction.
France, Spain, and then the Riviera Ligure.
Italy.
Even writing it, I can hear a change in my voice.
When you live abroad, returning to your own country has a particular flavour. You understand more than the words. You recognise the humour, the emphasis, the extraordinary number of things a person can communicate with one expression.
An entire conversation can happen somewhere between an eyebrow and a hand gesture.
I am fluent in both.😂
And this time, I was coming back for a shooting on the Riviera.
There are assignments you take seriously while thoroughly enjoying the fact that they have your name on them.
This was one of those.
The pleasure of being there entered the work. The sea close by, the warmth of the stone, those interiors opening towards the coast: everything invited a little more expression. A stronger look. A more languid movement. Then a laugh that belonged entirely to the moment.
I love that involvement, when I am absorbed in what we are creating and enjoying the place where it is happening. My attention becomes sharper. I want to try things, see how they feel, take an idea a little further.
The team has its work. I have mine. And between us, a day in a place like this becomes something we get to make together.
That is a privilege I want to remain capable of appreciating.
Because yes, these trips fit between responsibilities. There is preparation, travel, work waiting when I return. I know what it takes to make them happen.
Which makes me particularly interested in actually living them while I am there.
The Italian chapter closes our three destinations, and I am delighted to share a little of it here.
France gave us a story of adaptation.
Spain had its own warmth and energy.
Italy caught me speaking my own language—in considerably more ways than one.
Silvia
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