Waiting for today...: Thursday the 13th: Missing Home...

Friday, March 14

Thursday the 13th: Missing Home...

Dawn over the Delmarva Peninsula...

In moments of miscommunication, I’m apt to slow my racing mind, focus on the message and express it confidently when a person is patient and seeks clarification before allowing themselves to be swept away into snap judgement.  

Because of true love, a lost message was recovered from a recent and dreadful breakdown in communication between my mom and I.

And apparently, I was never alone in my thoughts of relocating.

Meanwhile, in my part of the world, I feel tossed to and fro as I try to keep my mood stable and make it through a bass-akwards work schedule this week.  

Hoping that the second week of April and long sought after changes is that light
I see at the end of the tunnel.

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.