It's Spring!

And that means macro photography is in full effect!

Vintage

I found this journal entry from Dec 26, 1998.

Now, if I was the person I wanted to be, who would I be?  I would be about 140 pounds, but athletic.  I’d be very friendly and warm, but would be a bit reserved until I knew a person and then truly open up.  I would be well read, able to speak poetical lines.  I’d dress stylishly and daringly.  I would be able to converse in Spanish, French and German.  Be able to play the piano (or at least a bit), the guitar and sing.  I’d be organized and reliable.  I’d be vegan, live my beliefs to the best of my ability.  Write daily and be able to juggle.  I’d be able to drive a stick, remember names, and drink tea.  I would watch less than a half an hour of television a day, but go to movies occasionally.  I’d make an effort to meet new people, help all people and and run no more red lights.

HAHAHAHAH! But really I'm laughing because more than 2/3rds of those things are STILL on my list. 

Old Letters

Occasionally I find letters from when I was a teenager. I'm never quite sure how to respond to them because on the one hand, they are kind of precious. On the other hand..well, sometimes I forget that I had a few years of being really painfully awkward. They help me, however, to realize how far I've come. None of us are happy all the time. Most of us fight the ups and downs of our chemistry and of life. But oh God. We are all so much better than when we were 16. I sometimes look at 16 year olds and wish I could go back and change some things. Then I find a letter from when I really was 16, 18, etc and oh God. I would give up none of what I have now for that. That was nothing but heartbreak and discomfort. I may tell myself to wear more sunscreen and get off soda, but you know. Mostly I'd just give that girl a hug and let her fight the fights she'd have to take on alone.  And then I'd go back to the life I have now. The self understanding I have now. The guy who cooks me pizza. The friends who help me dream. That girl will get here. And until then I will put her letters some place safe so that I can happen upon them another night of cleaning.

Old Man Talk

The YMCA is one of the few places I go where I rub elbows - sweaty elbows- with the conservatives who make up the majority of my childhood home. Sometimes I find the parking lot bumper stickers abrasive, but mostly I find it interesting. Not, "Oh look at those ridiculous conservatives not understanding evolution," but, "Oh OK. This is where they are coming from." It always makes me frustrated but not in the way you might think. I leave longing for a venue where I could ask politically right constituents questions and not have the whole situation instantaneously erupt into a verbal pissing contest.

Strings

I am a holder-on to things. And at some point in my life those things began holding on to me. Each consecutive move has been more boxes and more ridiculousness. More embarrassment. That's not who I want to be anymore. I don't want to be held down by stuff. I'm not yet to the point in my life where I'm stationary and can support such weight.

So this weekend I began the largest closet clean of my life. Half of my history is now firmly inside  plastic bags set for Goodwill. They are stacked haphazardly in the hall. Last night I went through one more time and saved a few items but mostly I just folded them and said goodbye.