Letting Go of Home

I really enjoyed reading this.

True North Nomad

full-time rv living, rv travel, rving

For years I dreamed of travelling this fabulous continent with only a camper van and my best friend, (and hubby in case you are new to the blog) Q.  I was heavy into my career, building, growing, climbing that corporate ladder but as I sat in my office staring out the windows I would dream of being somewhere else.  I felt stifled, uninspired in my life.  I was successful but I felt empty inside like something was missing.

Snippets of the life I truly wanted were granted to me via holidays and vacations but once I returned to my life of commute, home, commute, I would quickly push those memories away so I wouldn’t be reminded I wasn’t where I was supposed to be.  With obligations growing I worked on, adding responsibilities to my job and knick knacks to my house.  Over time I would forget the feelings the vacations…

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Big Pink

I found this very descriptive and truthful.

STORYTELLER

The pink building on the corner.

I couldn’t resist.

Even though the building is bright — sort of Pepto Bismol — pink, which contrasted nicely against last Sunday’s blue sky, I just had to mess with it.

I have no idea why anybody would paint a building this color. It is for sale. Maybe it was done to attract passersby attention. It worked. It caught my attention. But, I was walking through the neighborhood on my way back to the car after photographing the second line.

I was tired. The weather was hot and a little humid so I didn’t spend much time making the original image. This may be another place to which I should return. We’ll see. I now have four locations on my list. Even though this picture could have been a bit boring processed straight, I was able to mess around in post production. And, turn…

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The comfort of familiar things.

jenny's lark

Untitled, by Joel Hilgenberg
I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo.

If we know each other, in real life, then this revelation may be shocking. If we know each other very well, though, then it’s possibly not unexpected.

I have been thinking about it, a tattoo, though not terribly seriously, for longer than I’ll admit, even here. Tattoos, like second ear piercings or magenta streaks through graying hair (also under evaluation), fall decidedly into the category of “things that would have horrified my mother.” Then again, were she still alive I suspect my mother would have softened her position on many things, sifting and sorting what’s important from the rest through an increasingly open weave. It is one of the great benefits of being old that things formerly dismissed outright, and with harsh judgment, might again seem worth reflection, if not full reconsideration. And vice versa.

My renewed interest in…

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