Waiting for today...: Missing Home?

Sunday, March 9

Missing Home?


The Florida Theatre in Jacksonville Florida...



In the last year or so, I’ve often had the radical idea of relocating closer to my mom. I say radical because the process of relocating at this stage in my mental wellness efforts seems counterproductive; self-sabotaging even.  That reality was revealed due to a recent breakdown in communication between my mom and I.  The communication centered on my self-discovery process: specifically, revisiting my past in effort to find the source of the continuous self-destructive pattern I’m in.  The unexpected outcome forced me to realize that while we’ve taken so many steps forward in our relationship, being geographically closer, at this point, may stifle our progress rather than cultivate it.


As a child, I remember being fascinated by everything around me.  I took to drawing early, trying to capture those things.  My earliest remembrance of this fascination is from elementary school.  Instead of paying attention in class, I went about trying to recreate a design I saw on a hand-woven bag.  My creativity has waxed and waned since then.  As I grew up and became aware of cameras, my interest shifted from drawings to photos.  It never evolved beyond pointing and shooting however.  And just as I lost my passion for drawing and “less than amateur” photography, I lose my desire to write from time to time.  I am almost certain that my lack of creativity is a symptom of my depression.  So on days like this, when I’m speechless and lacking, I’ll share instead one of my photos in hopes to somehow keep my diminished creative flow from dying altogether.