The impending pressure of the fast approaching Report leaves an indention five feet deep on my shoulders, like a cheap Wal-mart bra with slack support. I can't find the motivation to complete any of the promised projects before I leave Columbia in two weeks, the days sliding by with little productivity. Empty frames litter the corners of my room, waiting to be filled and propped up on the walls of Pinnacle Clinic for display and sale; the desktop of Sparky, my faithful mac, is packed with unorganized clips of photos to inspire a t-shirt/poster design for the Raptor Ride this fall; a list of possible gifts for my sister's 25th birthday lies scrawled with dejected notes on my nightstand; the fridge and cabinets are packed with my food, my closets and drawers spilling over with items waiting to be moved to the empty condo on I-20; my phone still dead, my ipod still missing, and my socks still aren't folded.
Instead, I quickly shower, dress, scramble an egg, and follow the intense pull to West Columbia, where I spend the majority of my hours with the very people who were the inspiration for my career path. Sadly, two of them are missing, not to return until less than a week before my departure, which should be push enough to complete the checklist of tasks chicken-scratched onto my whiteboard, but instead I stare at the whiteboard thinking of how I need to buy some spackle to fill the holes in the walls of what was home to me for the past two years. Another to add to the growing weed of a to-do list.
I am hiding, cuddled under a blanket of denial in Mama G's recliner, literally dreading every return to my Cayce apartment, piled high with untouched goals - and reality. My nights at Lucky's Lounge are an escape from that scary growing-up thing I have to do very soon, a haven where I close my eyes and pretend the monster of change isn't there. But on my return home this morning after an extended nap trying to ignore the yellow demon Bailey's insistent whines, an e-mail from my CO at Ft Knox waited patiently, ticking away, filed under a question from my dad about printer cartridges I don't have the answer to. The note included a list of things to complete before report on June 6, followed by a quick procedure during our first couple days, and directions from the gate to our office at The Leader on base. See you in three weeks or less. Tick tick tick.
Na-na-na No Roomies
The excitement for the adventures waiting for me at Ft Knox is still there, wedged betwixt a rock and a hard place. I can't wait to begin my career, to learn more and more about military photography, to travel, meet interesting people and see beautiful places, to tell the stories of service members who have no voice, and help civilians to understand the sacrifices of each individual swimming in the sea of camo making up our armed forces, all through the never-lying shutter of my Nikon. But as Columbia's select job prospects creep out from the undergrowth, mouths wide with the snaggle-tooth grin of a mediocre salary and the promise of a gray cubicle, the inconvenient truth of my own sacrifice is climbing into the light - Columbia may not be the place that I can pursue the career I so desperately seek. There is a very significant chance I will have to leave Columbia, vacate the Palmetto State, leaving behind the friends and family who have supported me the whole path thus far. It's all a part of growing up, yes. But it's still scary as hell. I'm venturing forth, confident in my eye for perspective, my instinct for truth, my passion for loyalty and patriotism, and I'm doing it alone. The last sentence of my CO's e-mail rings in my mind - "Due to the independent nature of the inn on base, you will room alone." No roomie. Advantageous according to space and bathroom time, and so very ironic for the first step of what I hope to be a blooming career.
PT - PhotoTherapy/ PhotoTraining
On another note, I've decided to post pictures with every blog, possibly related, possibly just something I took recently that I'm puffing in pride over. My goal is to always post something of mine, though I'm sure I'll find a shot or two of my colleagues or an inspiring photographer elsewhere I'd like to share.
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| The flag pinned to the wall of Lucky's Lounge. I took it in a PhotoTherapy session with the new 35mm fixed lens my parents gave me for graduation. |
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