Life has a habit of grabbing you by the balls (whether you actually have them is irrelevant) and not letting go until it feels like giving you a break. I’ve always had a difficult time reconciling the need to exist in the moment versus the need to capture it with word and image. This problem relates more directly to photography than it does to writing, because I’m always writing but I’m not always taking photos. Mental snap-shots don’t count. Those usually manage to morph into something that feels more like a half-remembered dream than an actual memory. Which, to be perfectly honest, is how I prefer to look back on my experiences. It’s kind of the same with writing about them. Regardless of how long I wait to record a particular event or feeling, the interpretation will never accurately portray the reality. And I’m completely okay with that. Doesn’t make the internal battle any easier though.
To back-track, my five days in Seattle felt like an extension of the last time I visited, just spun on its head a little bit. My cousin Justin had moved to another house, but his belongings, his furniture, his art, his personal touches were still the same. Which I think made the transition an easier one. For the first few days we didn’t see each other much because I was too focused on spending as much time as I could with the incomparable Sarah (a member of my weirdly wonderful internet family). She introduced me to the beautiful University of Washington campus and joined me on my adventures exploring the city (something I neglected to do much of when I was there two years ago). We ate delicious food, luxuriated in some beautiful music, walked along the waterfront, looked at some art, wandered without purpose, I rode a carousel. It was pretty great (that’s a ridiculous understatement). Justin and his girlfriend Amy treated me to some of the best sushi that has ever landed on my tongue, sinfully scrumptious gelato, and a night of roller derby with some of their friends. Excitement does not always come in the form of a racing pulse and an adrenaline rush.
Due to lack of vehicle and lack of funds, I’ve found that I am far less adverse to relying on public transportation than I used to be. There were several instances where I ended up giving myself an unintentional walking tour of some of Seattle’s lovely neighborhoods, but I believe that only added to the tapestry of the city that was weaving itself together in my mind. Even though I entertained the thought of hacking off my own feet on more than one occasion. Only having one pair of shoes will do that.
I feel that there is a piece of me for every city that I visit and every person I meet that gets left behind, desiring to make its home in the traces of a make-believe life that may or may not ever become outlined in ink. Pieces that will remain until I return, for however long, and that will attempt to convince me to grow roots instead of catch a ride with every passing dandelion seed. This is the truth of an existence without limitations. Everything seems dangerously possible and tempts me with the opportunity of starting over. Choosing to follow one of those paths will probably be one of the hardest decisions I ever make in my life.
We Are the Cloud Runners 