Late winter never fails to regress me back to the tortuous age of fifteen. I have the facial blemishes to prove it. But it’s more than just skin probs giving me bouts of grief. I’m restless. Impatient. And incredibly angry at my wardrobe. I want to trade in my longish, dark hair for a blonde, pixie cut. I want to tear out my carpet, paint my bedroom walls violet, and coerce someone into buying me a new comforter. I want to adopt a pet, mow a lawn, eat watermelon out in the patio and redesign my blog as well. Is that too much to ask?
These infantile feelings stem from a yearning to go outside without having to wear a down jacket, I realize. But I think it’s also from knowing that I’m on the cusp of something. Something beautiful, spine-tingling, and true.
And right when I think I’m about to self-combust with pent-up exasperation, my dad forwards me photographs of Deming, New Mexico... a place I haven’t visited in about five years. My restlessness is instantly pacified as I'm transported to a time when I was making out in them hills with my hometown boys, barbequing underneath that warm, warm, far-away sky, riding in the back of a pickup toward those endless horizons, and oftentimes wishing I was somewhere else, if you can believe it.
Photos courtesy of Uncle Henry, a brilliant photographer, woodworker, and human being.
These infantile feelings stem from a yearning to go outside without having to wear a down jacket, I realize. But I think it’s also from knowing that I’m on the cusp of something. Something beautiful, spine-tingling, and true.
And right when I think I’m about to self-combust with pent-up exasperation, my dad forwards me photographs of Deming, New Mexico... a place I haven’t visited in about five years. My restlessness is instantly pacified as I'm transported to a time when I was making out in them hills with my hometown boys, barbequing underneath that warm, warm, far-away sky, riding in the back of a pickup toward those endless horizons, and oftentimes wishing I was somewhere else, if you can believe it.
Photos courtesy of Uncle Henry, a brilliant photographer, woodworker, and human being.
I hear ya...except sometimes I get so restless I confuse myself into thinking that I want irrational things...like to trade in my longish, dark hair for a violet pixie cut and to paint my bedroom walls blonde. Winter does crazy things to me!
ReplyDeleteLove the pictures.
And not to worry...here comes the sun!
Yep, I am seeing some green tips emerging from the cedar in the back yard - spring is on its way.
ReplyDeleteAnotehr beautifully colourful contribution frmo your good self; I so love reading your blog.
How is "Rosetta" coming along?
Love the photos too BTW.
Wow. Henry is good.
ReplyDeleteWhy don't you choose one of those things and actually do them. Perhaps it is not just the season misleading you. Perhaps the season allows you to hear your inner voice a little more clearly just as sound carries further on a cold day.
Truly wonderful photos. They make New Mexico look fantastic. Would you believe that I grew up in Silver City-moved in 6th grade. I am not a fan of the dessert so never understood people who thought it was beautiful. I still have a few relatives who live there.
ReplyDeletethose are gorgeous!
ReplyDeleteMarch's weather makes me desperate to get out of town. Anywhere. Hang in there, it's nearly over.
ReplyDelete