The public pool is a sacred space for many. In this "great equalizer" of the modern city, you can cast aside workday anxieties for the calming, repetitive act of swimming laps. Plus, you can get almost naked in public.
That's the takeaway of a new public art project, "The Secret Life of Swimmers," by Judy Starkman, a Los Angeles-based director and photographer. A lifelong swimmer, Starkman is a habitué of the Culver City Plunge pool, where she noticed the daily metamorphosis that her fellow swimmers underwent upon arriving at the pool. Starkman decided to photograph the individuals that compose her pool community, once in their swimwear and then again dressed for their "secret lives" at work, synagogue, or family time. Her subjects include everyone from a fireman to an academic to an antique flute restorer. “They are young and old. Some are in fantastic shape, but most are just regular people," according to Starkman.
Culver City will display banner-sized prints of Starkman's photos along several major streets for the next two years. Click through the slideshow above to check out a selection. Or visit the project's website to see the online gallery and a video by Starkman about the project.
Photographs by Judy Starkman. The streetlight pole banner and virtual gallery portion of "The Secret Life of Swimmers" concept was made possible with the support of the Culver City Cultural Affairs Commission, the Culver City Parks, Recreation & Community Services Commission, and the Culver City City Council.
Wiman hiding her face behind a bunch of cashCanva
A mansion and its reflection in the swimming poolCanva
Salzburg at nightCanva
Fancy homeCanva
Happy volunteersCanva
Parents of young children get more time with them if they work from home.Photo credit: Canva
Juicy subject matter
Giphy from The Blacklist.
We could start a rumor.
Grieving couple comforting each other
This response to someone grieving a friend might be the best internet comment ever
When someone is hit with the sudden loss of a friend or loved one, words rarely feel like enough. Yet, more than a decade ago, a wise Redditor named GSnow shared thoughts so profound they still bring comfort to grieving hearts today.
Originally posted around 2011, the now-famous reply was rediscovered when Upvoted, an official Reddit publication, featured it again to remind everyone of its enduring truth. It began as a simple plea for help: “My friend just died. I don't know what to do.”
What followed was a piece of writing that many consider one of the internet’s best comments of all time. It remains shared across social media, grief forums, and personal messages to this day because its honesty and metaphor speak to the raw reality of loss and the slow, irregular path toward healing.
Below is GSnow’s full reply, unchanged, in all its gentle, wave-crashing beauty:
Why this advice still matters
Mental health professionals and grief counselors often describe bereavement in stages or phases, but GSnow’s “wave theory” gives an image more relatable for many. Rather than a linear process, grief surges and retreats—sometimes triggered by a song, a place, or a simple morning cup of coffee.
In recent years, this metaphor has found renewed relevance. Communities on Reddit, TikTok, and grief support groups frequently reshare it to help explain the unpredictable nature of mourning.
Many readers say this analogy helps them feel less alone, giving them permission to ride each wave of grief rather than fight it.
Finding comfort in shared wisdom
Since this comment first surfaced, countless people have posted their own stories underneath it, thanking GSnow and passing the words to others facing fresh heartbreak. It’s proof that sometimes, the internet can feel like a global support group—strangers linked by shared loss and hope.
For those searching for more support today, organizations like The Dougy Center, GriefShare, and local bereavement groups offer compassionate resources. If you or someone you know is struggling with intense grief, please reach out to mental health professionals who can help navigate these deep waters.
When grief comes crashing like the ocean, remember these words—and hang on. There is life between the waves.
This article originally appeared four years ago.