When I look at photographs from the beginning of this strange journey, it feels like years ago instead of months. And honestly I hardly know how to hold all that has happened in between--I'm hoping some of my next projects give me an opportunity to slow down and process and tell you some of the stories in different ways.
At times the gratitude just makes me so still that I can hardly move. Other times I can really feel you, not like an abstract idea or an anonymous presence but as a real companion in a real place living a story running somehow parallel to mine. In these times I feel our intersection, and I'm enlivened to tell more stories and make more good things--for you. For us.
When I look at photographs of this journey, I remember it all so viscerally--how my body felt after driving so many hours and what the prairie of Western Kansas looked like out the window. The quirky things and deep thoughts coming from the backseat, where my two girls were keeping it real and keeping me company in the best way imaginable.
But most of all I remember the joy. The joy of being together, face to face. The joy of trusting myself and having it work out.
And the joy of being on a journey that never ceases to surprise and delight me.