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I first started my slow crawl westward circa 2001 (which is also the name of my favorite film, about a different kind of journey… maybe). First Memphis, Tennessee, then Tucson, Arizona, then called to Venice, California to be with the woman I married. Well, the marriage is now unfortunately ending, and though I shot this scene many months before we came to this impasse, it nevertheless seems iconic, an image laden with some painful prescience. Living by the beach meant I literally could go no further west without drowning, and now she and I can go no further together without risking our sanity. This separation and pending divorce means the End of Venice for me, insofar as I’ve moved out of her beachside apartment and am now living with friends in Culver City. Now when I go to the beach I won’t take it for granted, as I came to do while living a block away from it. Hopefully I’ll never again take love for granted, either.
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