Sunday, August 9, 2009


Sometimes, things are so elemental. Puristic and simple. Just outlines and margins, without any words. Just so.

I feel like I'm living in a sort of childhood fort, but a sad sort of place. Surrounded by moving boxes, some empty, some filled and sealed shut, I feel oddly disrupted. Clothes cover the bed, waiting to be packed away. The walls are bare, now, all the art carefully stowed. These lovely sage green walls will not belong to me and connect a most special collection of art pieces by Lindsay Eller, Bryan, Alyssa Sappington, Belle & Boo, Elizabeth Soule, and Patricia Zapata. Strange.

I've lived her for five years (just about). This has been home. Positive, safe, my own. Here- I became independent, I had my first kiss, I started my photography freelance business, I listened to and shared secrets, I became friends with Bryan and Stephen and Becky and Jodi. This is the where I fell in love with Jason.

I know this place. I can find my way in pitch darkness. And this time next week, I will be gone and this won't be where I live anymore.