My commute to and from work takes nearly 40 minutes (each way), but I don't mind the drive. I use the time to decompress from the day's events and to look forward to the possibilities of tomorrow. It also gives me time to contemplate work requirements as well as class assignments. The drive affords me the opportunity to revisit completed projects and to consider or "write" the beginning (or sometimes the conclusion) of other undertakings. And sometimes the drive gives me a chance to sit in silence and reflect or sort of daydream.
This evening, as I drove home, I started thinking of a classmate's blog that is dedicated to his experiences with (or in) photography. I read it for the first time a few days ago, and responded to him via Twitter stating that I would love to learn more about photography when and if I had the time. As I continued to consider the possibilities of learning more about photography I realized a bit about myself. I think of myself as an artist without a medium, a writer without a story, a sailor without a ship, an adventurer without a destination, a comedian without a stage, and a hobbiest without a interest.
I wish I could be impulsive, pick the family up and move, spontaneously find myself somewhere new, find an adventure, and learn about comedy, photography, and wine. Perhaps find the gumption to find an audience, write a story, take a picture, be rebellious, and leave fears of failure behind.
Luckily for me, just as I began to convince myself to make revolutionary changes, or to begin a revolution, I pulled into my driveway and stepped out of my car and back into reality.
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