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After the Island

The island was never a tropical paradise, at least while I was there. Rather than feeling in an ideal community, I felt far away from other places and suffocated by water. It was years later, from the distance of an American city, that the island transformed into utopia. From the nostalgia of the exile, the island became a paradise of sunny beaches, enchanted rain forests, and dreamy colonial cities. From the myopia of sporadic, short visits the island became perfect, intense, and fragrant. I was happy in my visits to the island, therefore the island was synonymous for happiness. From the darkness and frigid winters of the modern city, the island became warmer, romanticized, idealized- image, subject- object island of nostalgia.

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