T’was glorious to behold.
There is just something delicious to me about that word, “weekend.” The conclusion of yet another week full of so many…life-things. Eloquent, I know. Just those things that come with life which can’t be avoided at any cost, that make me stop, and sigh, and at mid-sigh say, “Life…” Because that’s just it. There is nobody to blame and nothing to do other than to keep trudging on through the thick and the thin landscape of this life. This existence. That I both love and loathe, depending on the day or the minute or the hour.
The sunlight brought to us a charge, a sense of “we-must-do.” And so, naturally, we cleaned the house. We organized the medicine cabinet and swept floors, did the dishes and wiped off counter tops, vacuumed carpets and scrubbed toilets. (Well, a toilet. The only toilet we have.) And I suddenly feel as though I’ve finally caught my breath after a long and grueling walk uphill. Not to say that my life itself has been particularly challenging as of late, but my mind has certainly been doing its best to make it seem that way. And after this weekend, that irksome feeling has finally decided to go steal someone else’s breath for a while.
That’s why I felt the need to take pictures of the ordinary this weekend. To capture those perfectly nothing moments. Where my mind isn’t trying to make things harder than they actually are. Where I feel like myself. I wanted to save these fleeting moments, because they won’t last forever.
There is new week after every weekend, a new haze after any moment of clarity. And I will never quite get a grip on that. But for some strange reason, I feel like acknowledging that fact is the only way to actually get a grip on anything.