i'm rediscovering my love for writing. it's been easy to bury beneath my interest in photo, a respect for the power of the image. but this summer, i wrote. with my students in a workshop, in a college class on the psychology of women, to a loved one who i couldn't reach by phone. i wrote in cafes, parks, bookstores; i wrote on beaches, mountaintops, the grass of a friend's backyard. so many bits of my days became content for writing, and so many scenes became necessary to capture. i was surprised by the seamlessness of travel between pen and camera, and thrown by how between the page and picture, i felt my life become whole.
so august ends and september begins. with tools in hand, i'm ready to devour the remains of summer. beauty abounds, and i'm going to bring it all home.