it’s just like starting over
Feeling a tad too old to still be blogging at sites like livejournal and greatestjournal… i’m going to attempt working here, where the goal is better writing..and photoblogging as well.
I’m a 30 year old woman. I live on Cape Cod–that’s in Massachusetts for those of you who don’t know. It’s a glorious and difficult place to live. My family relocated to Savannah, Georgia about two years ago, I frequently fly down to visit them and have a great time. Here I am.
playing catch up
The nutty smell of cigarettes left dancing on my fingertips for hours is oddly comforting. I step down the concrete steps of the post office, it’s dark and there’s a chill in the air. Fallen leaves scatter on the sidewalk, littering the curb and the roadway, sweet autumn smells rising upwards. Light spills from the old familiar signs, darkness pools along the way, and I am satisfied. The sound of my footsteps on the concrete, the leaves rustling, odd snippets of one-sided conversations, curious as to why the lack of a flag pin on someone’s lapel could possibly invoke so much irritation. To the parking lot, days ago it was abuzz with excitement, Election day.
Earlier, the beach was deserted. That’s how it is this time of year; gone are the bright umbrellas and beach towels, gone is that man that really shouldn’t be wearing a European style bathing suit, really now, gone are the mothers and children and teenagers. Today someone is solitarily sleeping to the east, curled up near the dunes, jacket over the head. For a brief moment I’m tempted to do the same, but I walk on. I’m the only other one there. At the shore the waves break, gently, it’s the south side after all, seaweed and shells wash up with each small swell. A piece of driftwood loaded with long green tendrils, a faded, torn aluminum can. I scan the coast for beach glass before I remember it doesn’t wash up here anymore. Years and years ago, along a similar beach just a few miles down the coast, she walked into those waves, and never came back.
To live a life based on sensory perception, on innate instinct, somehow i need to sate myself, but this isn’t the way. Life, or the life that’s been created, is far too complicated to bother with the needs that boil up from the soul. But in squelching those needs, we are crushing ourselves, crumpling our souls up like yesterday’s newspaper, and letting them sit in silence and darkness at the bottom of a trashcan.
Savannah
As I mentioned in my previous post, my family relocated to Savannah, Georgia in the summer of 2004. Savannah is a beautiful and mysterious place, full of gorgeous old homes, Spanish moss dripping from live oaks, palm trees, and others… it has a fabulous nightlife, great shopping, and wonderful people.
This is my family.
They are, without a doubt, the most amazing family in the world.
I landed in Savannah on Wendesday of last week. I spent the next five days with my family, from amazing family dinners at my parent’s house in Ardsley Park to crazy drunk nights running around the streets of Savannah with my sister and her friends.
To all my Savannah family and friends–thank you so much for an amazing time and I hope to come back soon. I’m planning on April.
For now, I’m back on Cape Cod.
