Take me to the ocean, and I'm --
Cabarete is famous for its kite-surfing. World-renowned, actually.
I didn't step foot on a board during my five days there. Unlike surfing, the sport is too intense and demanding to achieve passing competence during such a short trip.
Maybe I should have tried for it anyway.
Overall, I enjoyed my time in Cabarete. I visited a dear friend and explored an area of the world that felt exciting and unfamiliar. Looking back, though, in the editing and the compilation, I remember feeling much of what I felt in the DR -- an uneasy, pervasive lost-in-translation, a helplessness entirely of my own making.
Instead of pitching forward, I sunk back into myself, a hunched collapsing of the shoulders, a curving of the spine, a successful attempt at making myself smaller in the face of new experiences. It's apparent upon reflection.
In the title I say snapshots, but they're not, are they? Photos, I mean.
Snapshots imply quickness. An unthinking capturing of a crystalline moment in time, if such a thing exists. There's always more personal influence in photography than that implies. More decision-making and thought, even if it's behind the scenes, even if it's unintended.
From the b-roll heavy images to the post-processing, I tied the images together, created strings of them like sentences, and they say something.
So here's a short sentence.
I'll let you translate.