Look Around You in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

I need to start taking more photos. I carry my camera with me practically everywhere I go, yet I rarely snap photos. There are so many things I could be capturing. I look at other sites and see all of these amazing things that people have observed, and I’m a little ashamed at myself for letting opportunities slip by.

I’ve been playing around this morning looking at old photos and pulling some thoughts out of files and photo albums. I’m no photographer by any means, and some of the quality here is bad, bad, bad. But maybe I can use it as a starting point or as food for thought.

Here are some places that have sparked some sort of emotional response when I revisited them this morning:

These are the back stairs to my old apartment in Dallas. Can you imagine stumbling up these drunk? I attempted it. Millions of times. Many times unsuccessfully.

Aah. Pure comfort. This is one view of my parents’ place. I love going there so much. If you look really closely you can see my dad sitting on the porch swing. That’s very rare. He’s usually puttering around in the yard or doing something to the house.

Here’s a view from the plane on the way to Vegas. I always get excited when I go to Vegas, but it’s rarely because of the scenery. This is representative of the calm before the debauchery.

This is the courtyard of the S. Anderson vineyards. LDL and I went there during my long distance booty call days. We drank champagne and wandered around. He thought it would be an amazing place to have a wedding. I thought yeah, that’s true. But not “ours”.

This photo captures exactly how I feel about Paris: cold and gloomy and damp and lonely. I suppose it’s because every time I’ve been there it’s always been under strange and uncomfortable circumstances. Yes. This shot is perfect.

And speaking of France, this one is great too. This the little courtyard of the place where Sam (the old flame who I can’t seem to get out of my head lately) lived while he was going to school in Montpellier. The dog’s name was Funny. I love that there’s a random half-empty wine bottle just sitting there on the table.

These are the ruins of a nunnery in Antigua, Guatemala. I really wish I’d taken a million more photos when I was in Guatemala. I would have to say that it is the most beautiful and fascinating, yet most poor place I’ve ever been in my life. I wish I had captured the contrasts.

And I know this needs no explanation.