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I Always Think It's Forever: A Love Story Set in Paris as Told by an Unreliable but Earnest Narrator (A Memoir)
I Always Think It's Forever: A Love Story Set in Paris as Told by an Unreliable but Earnest Narrator (A Memoir)
I Always Think It's Forever: A Love Story Set in Paris as Told by an Unreliable but Earnest Narrator (A Memoir)
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I Always Think It's Forever: A Love Story Set in Paris as Told by an Unreliable but Earnest Narrator (A Memoir)

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A sweeping, unique graphic memoir about an artist’s year abroad in Paris and how it gave way to an all-encompassing love affair and crushing heartbreak as he wrestled with trauma, masculinity, and the real possibility of hope.

Renowned graphic artist Timothy Goodman planned to do what every young artist dreams of and spend a year abroad in Paris. While there, he fell in love in a way he never had before. For the first time in his life, he let himself be loved and finally, truly loved someone else. But the deeper the love, the more crushing the heartbreak when the relationship eventually fell apart, forcing him to look inwards. He confronted traumas of his past as well as his own toxic masculinity, and he learned to finally show up for himself.

I Always Think It’s Forever is a one-of-a-kind graphic memoir that chronicles it all—the ups, the downs, love lost, and love found—all in the bold illustration style Goodman is best known for, with poetic prose and handwritten wording to accompany the artwork with a touch of humor added as well. It’s a glimpse inside the heart and mind of a man, first focusing on the time Goodman spent in Paris, including diary entries relating his experiences learning about French food, culture, and language. This touching memoir also explores the painful break-up just six months later in Rome. Goodman artfully describes his attempts at learning to love himself in the end, his scars, cuts, warts, and all in a way no book ever has before.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 31, 2023
ISBN9781668003701
I Always Think It's Forever: A Love Story Set in Paris as Told by an Unreliable but Earnest Narrator (A Memoir)
Author

Timothy Goodman

Timothy Goodman is an award-winning artist, graphic designer, author, and public speaker. His art and words have populated walls, buildings, packaging, shoes, clothing, books, magazine covers, and galleries all over the world for brands such as Apple, Nike, Google, MoMA, Netflix, Tiffany & Co., Samsung, Yves Saint Laurent, Sundance, Uniqlo, Target, The New Yorker, and The New York Times. He regularly partners with not-for-profit organizations and schools to create art for communities in New York. He’s the author of Sharpie Art Workshop and the cocreator of several projects including the viral blog and book 40 Days of Dating. His first solo gallery exhibition, I’m Too Young to Not Set My Life on Fire, was on view in Manhattan in 2021. Timothy’s work often discusses mental health, therapy, manhood, race, politics, heartbreak, and love. He teaches at School of Visual Arts, regularly speaks around the world at creative conferences, and enjoys sharing his life on Instagram. He lives in New York City.

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    Book preview

    I Always Think It's Forever - Timothy Goodman

    Cover: I Always Think It's Forever, by Timothy Goodman

    I Always Think It’s Forever

    A Love Story Set in Paris as Told By an Unreliable but Earnest Narrator

    Timothy Goodman

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    I Always Think It's Forever, by Timothy Goodman, Simon ElementThis Is for the Lonely PeopleIntroduction: Forever, Again

    On June 31, 2019, at 8:05 PM, I took off for Paris, France, on Delta flight 264 to do something I’d never experienced before. It was the first time in my adult life I took real time off from my life. I finally did something big for myself—not for my career, not for someone else, not for some impossible facade I could never keep up with because of fear. First, a little Timothy history here: The previous year, I experienced one of my worst years, full of depression and tears. It seems I had been stalling the trauma I never worked on after all the years. It just became way too much to bear. Slowly, through therapy, I discovered that I’m worth everything, every cent I have, I was determined to make sense of my hard times and feel worthy again. Once I did, I vowed to do everything I had put off before: celebrate New Year’s, grow my hair, learn French, go to Paris for six months, continue therapy, have a big birthday party, and accept real vulnerability. And while I was there, I met someone—someone who made me smile, someone who made me hit send on my heart’s biggest file. Maybe it was how much my heart would eventually hurt, maybe it was the wine I drank in Parc des Buttes-Chaumont, maybe it was riding bikes in Bordeaux under the sun, or maybe it was the lonely nights after the breakup that I got drunk, but everything about Paris is forever indented on my heart.

    While I was there, I learned about this unique French word called dépaysement. It literally translates to decountrification or change of scenery, but it’s used to describe this great feeling of living as a stranger somewhere far away from your memory; a sort of disorientation, lost and searching, but doing it with real curiosity and wonder. That was me in Paris. Me, feeling as if I had no past or future. Me, learning the French language (while I kicked and screamed with my tutor). Me, eating all the baguettes. Me, feeling like I was meant to be exactly where I was. Me, finding someone who would turn me into us. And after our love eventually dried up, after the heartbreak and fuss, after the last text I never sent sat in my notes folder collecting dust, I sit here thankful for the dust I kicked up: the good, the bad, the healing, the trauma, the boring mundane stuff that fills 99% of my life up. I believe that going after love is real as fuck, so I wanted to tell this story by writing a book.

    Making art out of my own heartache doesn’t feel beautiful at the time. It’s not like the movies. I can’t perform some grand act of self-love, discover something remarkable, and figure it all out. No, my guts are inside out. On the floor. In public. And it never seems to stop. I think: if only I do this, if only I say that, if only I hit send on that thoughtful email, then maybe it would all make sense. Sometimes I felt like I was writing

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