01 October 2014
Both photos taken today at Western Washington University.
Well, the crickets doth chirp loudly upon this site!
I apologize for my unplanned week of absence.
(Sort of. I'm a bit toward the spontaneous end of the spectrum, so, you know! Life! It happens! And it's great! And apologizing for not blogging is rather a silly thing if you ask me, but...manners.)
So, I had been planning to come up to Washington the second week of October to photograph a wedding in my hometown. The flights were booked, the plans set.
Buuuuuut, then my college roommate happened to be driving through Denver...so I hopped in the car with her a week early, and together we zipped through Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, Idaho -- and into our beloved home state. And so what we have here -- this specimen before us -- is one Bridget Anne Park with two full weeks of Washington goodness ahead of her. And she is a very happy specimen indeed.
Being in Washington always, unfailingly inundates my soul with a bit too many creative impulses. It borders on synesthesia. The trees, and the fog, the crisp air, the seaside...they do a number on me and I feel I can't possibly take it all in, and by extension, can't possibly put it all back out. Onto paper. Into words. Through photographs. I just can't. It feels overwhelming, almost. Limitless. One walk through the forested lanes of my college town yields a hundred story starts in my head, and it is the most consuming feeling -- and one that's both gratifying and paralyzing in the same breath.
For me, Washington is that winsome boy in high school you have quite the crush on...and you want to run into him...but when you do, you become terribly nervous and have nothing witty to say.
And so, there are, already, a thousand things I could say about my one and a half days back in Washington so far. An embarrassingly large number of things. But I am so very lacking in the ways to actually say them at the moment -- am peeking in the vacant cabinets of my head to track down the words. Where are you?
(And I am always, always having to learn to make it small.
Write about acorns, not trees.
Or something like that. )
I suspect I'll be back rather soon with an essay or twenty or one hundred.
Until then I'll be inhaling this most irresistible Northwestern air -- that makes me positively dizzy, takes my words away from me.