Skaters in Paris


Even back at home I’ve always felt weirdly comfortable at skate parks. I somehow felt included in the foreign world of eccentric music, and that capturing of a good feeling that everyone seems to subconsciously know so well. Minutes at the skate park always seem to move in slow motion, without eagerness, time seems to be in no rush, holding its poise and position. It seems that no matter where you are in the world these creative rebellions focus in on the curves of the pavement without hesitation or delay, they’re completely in their own world, not caring about impressing anyone, it seems to be all for themselves.

I had lost my visa one day and was going to pick up a new one that had been sent to the UPS store when I came across this skate park. I didn’t even know there were any skate parks in Paris, but…

View original post 132 more words