Escape...if only in pictures.

Perhaps I love movies so much because they state what I cannot. They speak the words that are pushed to the forefront of my brain but never off of my tongue. They might also act out the things that I wish I could do...moving to Tuscany, leaving my home, acting on impulse...living without care, racing against a known evil that chases me outright through the streets (unlike the reality that laps at my heels every other day)...perhaps that is why we all relate.

Me? I am no different than most I guess. Perhaps a bit more outward and outspoken...perhaps I am more openly unsettled and eager to speak of the contradictions that I see, that I sometimes live.

In truth, I could very well just do it all...move to Italy on a whim, leave my job, start a life as an artist...it all boils down to the fear that I cannot resolve within my reality.

I suppose most people are unsettled. I assume that most people simply bury it, though...nudge it aside with a relationship, or a child or a job....excuses to excuse the frustration...distractions...fodder.

Do we just find little things...to start? To start to back away from the abyss of complacency? A project here...a new mindset there...?

I don't fucking know.
I just don't know.
Why can't I just fucking start?

I try.
I guess I need to try harder.

Black and white and desolate. Black and white and so expressive.

High plains, solitude and quiet. Lately I can relate. It is an escape...a familial and strangely familiar landscape that I have never experienced. I feel like I have, though...I feel like I have thought that way for a very long time...since before I was even here. Maybe in my youth? Stories in my past....stories that I have related to before I knew what relevance they held.

Stories that even now I run to to deconstruct my distorted modern day once it has retreated into night...

...even in the most isolated places, a fire can be lit to stave off the dark.