The bag is slowly being unpacked. The laundry machine full, the fridge nearly empty except for cookie dough and beer. (When did the regression become complete?) I am finally scrubbed clean and rested, and still humming with the tremendous experience of spending two straight weeks of falling hard in love with strangers. To drive one road for days with few instructions except to make pictures means getting out of the car and immediately building relationships with anyone who looks interesting. Or, in my case, anyone you see, because there were so few travelers on the Blue Ridge Parkway, my home for the past two weeks. Home is quiet. Home is restful. Home is lonely.
1 comment:
excited to see what you did! Sounds like an awesome assignment.
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