For a minute I get lost.  

In the humdrum everyday sluggish flow of time.  Over the course of minutes. Staring into space.  A dusty and sun-bleached “Be Back Soon” sign on the front door of my mind.  

Every once in a while you get this thing under your skin.  A bit of stone or wood. Shrapnel or splinters. And this thing goads you into a rash decision.  

But a decision so steeped in crazy, there’s no room left for regret.  It’s as much a result of pure animalistic instinct as it is the result of pondered and drawn out thought.

If you told me ten months ago what I would be doing today, I’d be skeptical.

Every year it’s the same thing, I just have no clue how I came to where I am.  And then I push that further and further, and think about the last decade, and the two decades before that.  And all together, that’s my life so far.  

But it’s absolutely unhinged and crazy, and it erases any fear I might have, because I know, it’s all going somewhere strange and new.  

I got a feeling, that 2020 is going to be the best year yet.  

New job, more money in the bank, big apartment, new ideas, new photo projects, and getting better every day.  

A lighting kit in my living room.  Photo books and a stack of prints on my work table.  

A smile from a stranger on the sidewalk outside my apartment door.  Growing my hair and beard out.  

Plans to see my family soon, very soon.  

The feeling that some major player, some monumental plot device, or the sudden cut to black lurks right around the corner.  The feeling that I’m drawing something out, something beautiful, something that could one day mean something.  

Keep going back up against it.  

Over and over again, struggling.  

Knowing some people are buried beneath the deluge of years.  

Parts of myself now cordoned off, or placed on a high shelf.  

But the narrative continues.  

Sick as ever, can’t stop.  

Living life like poetry, drinking in images, and bleeding out my sorrows.