I never thought I’d say that again. I truly, truly believed I’d never come back to this city and yet, here I am lying in my sister’s guest room listening to the sound of rain and zooming cars through the open windows at 11:30 at night.
Honestly, I don’t know if I’m fully happy with this move. I probably never will be. I fell in love with a city named Tempe and I don’t think I’ll ever fall out of love with it. I started a life there, and for one reason or another I never really “finished” it. Maybe I compare my story too easily and too often with others, but I had desires and now I have to wait again or start over. I thought I would have mastered that game already but I just loathe it more and more as every year goes by and I feel like I’ve failed.
I’ve been hiding behind my emotions, pain, frustration, and sadly enough now, behind my lens. I cannot explain the way I feel about photography. It’s more than love or admiration. The silence right before the shutter fills me right up every time. Nonetheless, I’ve started to use it as an escape, as an excuse to stay behind the scenes.
I don’t want to skew, or screw, photography. I don’t deserve that. I’m better than that.
No more behind the scenes. I’m going to be open, and not just with photography, but with my words once again. I stopped writing because I hated how it made me feel but again I don’t deserve that.
This was my attempt at “coming back” and I’ll keep trying.