It’s interesting how a queen size bed once seemed just right for me and now it’s too big. It now feels empty when I lay in it and the pillow next to mine is empty. When her head isn’t resting on it. It feels empty when I don’t feel her next to me. We’ll be apart a lot this summer with work and her being an hour away. It’s weird how about six months ago it was hard to share a bed with her and now it’s beginning to be odd if we aren’t in the same bed. So tonight I fall asleep with the pillow next to me empty, wishing it wasn’t.
This week has been a week of supposed storms, that haven’t turned up. I always used to hate storms, but now I kind of like them. Today I wished it would have stormed. I heard thunder, but it never rained. But it was okay, me and Hannah treated it like a rainy day anyway. We both had the day off and we relaxed watching TV, making pancakes, cleaning, reading and watching movies. It was a good day and good time spent together.
A quick shot out of the window of my speeding car, as it flew down S.R. 39. I’ve driven this road a million times. Always headed towards Danville. It can be a long drive from wherever I’m staying and it can be boring, but it’s always worth it when I reach the destination and the person that’s waiting for me at the end. Tonight Hannah drove though, and I got to be a passenger for once. So I got to shoot and scenes that I had seen a million times became interesting. Like this fence line that is along the county line between Boone and Hendricks.
I’ve started writing again. I’ve always enjoyed writing. I like creating stories, expressing ideas, explaining thoughts. Putting words on paper. A lot of the time I write on the computer. It’s easy and convenient. But every now and then I take the time and write by hand, with a fountain pen. There is something special about this type of writing. The ink flowing out of the pen, tattooing the paper and creating words, all controlled by one’s hand. It’s special. It’s like Zambra said. “There’s a drive when you write on paper, a sound to the pencil. A strange equilibrium between elbow, hand and pencil.”
A change in the weather. Some gnarly clouds rolled through tonight. Thunderstorms remind me of so much. I love the smell of rain, the roll of thunder, the surprise of lightning, the ominous look the clouds hold and the breathe taking sky it creates after the madness. It is all simply so easing and beautiful.
Every year deadly storms rip through small towns or big cities. Lives are randomly chosen and lost. For those, we remember.
Shot over Giest Reservoir after the storm.
Oh Ben…..he’s so handsome. Yet a pain in the ass. I love him so much as I adopted him almost a year after Jordan passed, on Jordan’s first birthday without us.
His name was Desoto at the Humane Society. I changed it to Ben for unknown reasons, though I have to clarify Ben is my cat and NOT a guy when telling stories. He had been there for a bit prior to me adopting him. I had NO clue what I was getting myself into. They say ‘all black’ cats have the most personality. Truth. He goes out with the dogs. He’s as smart as a human and knows it. When people come to my house I have to warn them about my cat, not the two dogs. All in all though he is great and I couldn’t imagine not having his punk-ness around.
‘It took awhile for her to figure out that she could run, but when she did she was gone, long gone, long gone.’
I’ve always been pretty good at running. Figuratively and literally. Perhaps that’s why I love sunsets so much. It signifies an end. A new start, just hours away. A chance to run and start over.
Not all running is bad. I know that your ‘problems’ will follow no matter where you end up. However, sometimes leaving what is comfortable is the only way to find out what your limits are.
The quote I started with is from the song by Keith Urban, Stupid Boy.
If you want a happy ending, it depends on where you stop the story.