I've been following a moonshadow...

It's been awhile. I'm pretty terrible at this all, so far. Life has conspired against me recently and made me horrifically busy (well, not horrifically - it's been nice).

The past two days were strange, almost magical. Sleet and hail and then sun and then more hail and sun, and then the water droplets on the tree branches glittered like thousands of chandeliers. I don't know what it is, but as soon as I see that kind of afternoon light, I'm pulled towards it, outside and down the road.

Today the sun disappeared by the time I'd gotten my camera, but it was still lovely, and I went to the cemetery (I've been spending a great deal of time there... hmm). I decided to take off my shoes. Remember how I said it hailed? There was still ice on the ground. Ice and cold, cold mud. Brilliance. I'm not sure why I felt the need to, but it seemed right for what I wanted to achieve. When I take photos I feel like my body just kind of disappears and becomes a tool. I always seem to end up haphazardly clothed or in awkward positions, whether I'm the subject or the one behind the camera or both. My mother is worried that I'll be one of those tourists who takes one step too far over the edge in pursuit of a vista. Luckily, landscapes aren't my favorites.

When I came back to my room, the floor was covered in cardboard and my roommate was constructing a giant (3.5', maybe?) tape dispenser. This made me very happy.

Kenna wrote about missing Texas, and I kind of miss home, too. I don't really know what it is. It's not even the people who live there; rather it seems more like a sense of place. I miss open spaces and cornfields and summer, even. Golden days. A more disorganized setting. Things are more ordered here than they are anywhere east of the Mississippi. I miss slightly older surroundings. There is something romantic about flatlands and cornfields when you haven't seen them in months. I know they exist here, but at this point in time they might as well not, since I have no way to get there.

I miss the wooden surfaces and light at home. I am never drawn to people or specifics of place; I don't miss a specific café or my mother all that much. I miss thunderstorms and golden light and lying on a hardwood floor looking at the sky through a lattice and feeling warm and close to the earth.