the thing that i feel the most guilt for not taking enough photographs. i compensate for my bad memory by capturing as much of life as i can, and when i miss things, i feel like they are gone forever. this guilt is closely followed by letting people down. which is something i can be very good at. it’s not that i don’t care, sometimes i care so much i feel like nothing i do would be worthy. not blogging has stuck around like a sickness these past few weeks and i am deeply sorry.
i am no longer a gypsy. me and m are renting a house on a hill overlooking the blue mountains. it is so cold and beautiful here. we have a fireplace, a bath, big windows and a balcony. the first few nights we huddled under airline blankets, our few possessions scattered around us. our home was so empty.
we quickly filled the home with things i never could have owned as a gypsy. i can feel the weight of all these things i now have and i wonder whether it was a good idea. but this isn’t the end of travel for us.
i don’t know why i’m lost. i can’t even remember when i lost me. love brings on so much feeling. this afternoon love made me sit in a hot bath, sobbing until i was weak and drowning a bottle of red wine on an empty, sick stomach. yesterday love made me feel the same intense happiness i had as a child. relationships are hard. especially between passionate, strong-minded artists. but deep down that’s what i need, something to experience, feel, write about. maybe i’ve been losing myself in the bad us. i love you m, i know things will become okay again because they always are.
i’m so lost i’m not even sure where i am going with this. but please be patient while i slowly return to myself. i have so many pictures i want you to see.
i don’t take many self-portraits anymore. this is me at my grandparents house early this year.