On roots, black and white and what persists.
I've been struggling for some time. maybe since my mother died (after a prolonged fight with cancer, with me riding as head nurse). it's challenging to untangle what is situational like grief, or what is boredom from covering the same 40 square kilometers for a decade, or what is malaise from the state of the world, and on and on.
What is easy enough to say is that for some time I'm feeling detached from my own work. I know it's mine but it doesn't register in my heart often. I feel so little these days and awareness is dangerous if you want to make anything that can persist.
You have to be just living your life and experiencing things and loving those things and working out how to best capture and share those things. Being aware of your time and place and situation during taints everything.
Or, maybe, I'm just powered by equal measures of nostalgia and curiosity. The curiosity pulling me forward and the nostalgia later pulling me backward all the while ending up somewhere in the middle.
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