15 july 2009

Here's a good sign that something's off: the last photo I took with my beloved camera was in April.

It was at the Athens Americana Festival, which was indeed a lovely weekend for music, though it was a tragic and shocking weekend in other respects. (Sadness for the families of Ben Teague, Marie Bruce, and Tom Tanner serves as a forceful reminder that I should be grabbing myself by the shoulders, shaking myself back to not only normalcy, but passion for the life that can sometimes be taken so for granted.) It was a spring weekend, opening up to warmth and reminding me what the outdoor air does for my soul.

Three months have passed since then, passed both sluggishly and without my paying them much heed, as I've been wrapped up in a summer fog of depression from which I'm still looking for some kind of safe harbor.

Breaths of fresh air include talking to my mother, swimming with Bonnie a few weeks ago, every time I place my head on Bo's shoulder.

A friend gave me a few encouraging words this morning about self-control, steadiness, effecting change, and I'm going to try to get out on a run tomorrow morning. And maybe take a photo. I'll letcha know how it goes.