I’m a little adrift and far from my own thoughts and writing in order to draw near to myself. They wander, little nomads pitching tents wherever the water and grass are plentiful. Thumbing noses at bricks and foundational constructs, they resist being civilized and towned and found on a map. They would rather drive till they run out of gas, to gorge themselves on supper and, with a surprised look on their faces, starve for breakfast. Fickle creatures that I have been stubbornly refusing to look at, to acknowledge, to give substance to. Now, I sit, camera in hand, and capture their souls.