This is a way of collecting moments.

I have a ‘creative’ job involving writing, photography, and minor video projects- and while immensely satisfying and fairly inspiring, the work is rather narrow in scope. I’ve noticed a trend recently, in that at the end of what is usually…

This is a way of collecting moments.

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I have a ‘creative’ job involving writing, photography, and minor video projects- and while immensely satisfying and fairly inspiring, the work is rather narrow in scope. I’ve noticed a trend recently, in that at the end of what is usually an intense deadline cycle, I am overcome by this surge- a counterbalance- this need to dig into my own creative coffers- the ideas piling up in the back of my mind- and produce my own work, just for the fun of it. Stories about nothing and everything flow, and photo subjects are more thoughtfully considered. Ever more dances are choreographed in my mind (though these are not as readily brought to fruition), and it is not uncommon for some portion of my, or someone else’s, home to receive an overhaul. My cooking and baking gets a bit more experimental, and I’ve got spare ideas for friends and loved ones, too- box sets and podcasts and books to be made- to name a few of the latest spontaneous endeavors and inspirations. These flurries usually add up to nothing more than a trail of little looks, but I hope this is a warm up of sorts- eventually leading to accomplishing some of the bigger projects that have been tucked away, evolving over time in the back of my mind.

It would seem, after all this talk, that I would have a really impressive THING to present, but I just took a little time away in my head tonight to make a tiny little scene I’ve wanted to capture for a couple of months. It’s certainly no big deal, but it’s impressive to me that I actually made it happen. That something inspired me, and I actually produced a piece of ‘work’ from that inspiration, instead of letting it continue to rattle around in my head for all eternity. Just keep making things. Little, big, personal or public, just make. Take a break and make! It probably only means something to me, but maybe you’ll like it, too.

Last autumn, on a flight home from Texas, I was in that unique headspace I get into when I leave. I get twisted up and sentimental in the act of leaving- leaving a friend’s house after dinner or leaving a town I just happened to vacation in, with no conceivable emotional attachments- it’s there, just a hint of that feeling, no matter what. When I leave a place I happen to be really attached to, or folks I happen to be really attached to, or both, I’m a grand wreck. So, I hopped on a plane to leave Texas- a place I have very mixed emotions about, after probably one of the most positively epic journeys of my life so far- and settled into staring out the window. I’m a pensive girl, so this was default behavior for me, but in this particular instance, it was a desperate attempt to divert the spectacle of the breaking of the dam. To further aid distraction, I put in my headphones and pressed ‘shuffle’.

Rising up out of Austin at dusk, we came over seemingly endless clouds, most of which were sparking with lightning. I was transfixed; it’s one of my favorite sights, so rarely seen. In a moment that forever confirmed my suspicions that my iPod is eerily extra-intuitive, Runway Houses City Clouds by Tame Impala began to play. “But don’t remind me of home, there’s everywhere I’d rather go. It’s true that some things have to change. And don’t remind me of home, or I might notice where I am. It’s true that some things have to change. I know some things have to change. I’m gazing out the window, as I ascend into the sky, but I’m the one who’s left behind. There is nothing that is safe. I know some things have to change. Yeah, I do. But don’t remind me of home, in case it isn’t quite the same.” In that moment, I wasn’t sure whether ‘home’ was California or Texas- maybe I’m still not sure.

I somehow had the presence of mind to remember the camera I had been lugging all over the state but had neglected to put to any good use, and I just sat with the music and the lightning and filmed until we were long past the cloud cover and all was black. My heart felt lighter, and my head felt clearer. It was just one tiny moment in time, this is a tiny moment in my story; this video is just a tiny portion of what was captured. This is a way of collecting moments.

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