Last month I was in Cannes, but not for the films, nor the Cannes Lions (folks were Shaping the Digital Infrastructure of the Future, but I wasn’t shaping it with them).
Yes, it may be the last time I ever see it the way I used to. Maybe Cannes itself is different now, although its famous creamy and pastel facades, Provencal light, sudden storms, swifts and blazing sunsets are all still there, the badges and the briefings still swirling beneath them.
Anyway, what comes next isn’t a think-piece or some kind of a hot take.
It’s a poem, it’s on my writer’s blog, and I’ll be happy if you read it. You’ll see views of the world quite different from the strategic visions of the future I used to shape myself. The distance in the poem isn’t dismissive, contemptuous: I’ve been there (and part of me always will be).
One more thing: that world of the poem—beauty, image and power, glamour and influence, and their costs, mundane horrors beneath a mondaine surface, is the world of The Trashman, the new Freddie Omm neo-noir thriller, which publishes on 22 August.
Cannes, plus ça change, is still a great place for finding the things that will last, as well as the ones you won’t be seeing again.
Last Month in Cannes—read the full poem here.
The Trashman—pre-order the thriller here.
Speak Your Mind