Thursday, June 25, 2015

The comforts. On sleeping.

Lush morning comfort

Perched, cross-legged on a chair in Starbucks, finishing my coffee, I watch the line of people enter. People dressed in suits, slacks, formal dresses and heels, and those in hiking boots, shorts and t-shirts. My sweats and comfy sweater seem out of place. I have been awake since 5:26 in the morning, when the shining sun filled my car, parked tucked into a corner besides a drive-through only Duncan donuts and some nondescript businesses which were closed for the day. I had sleeping options, but a long morning commute with traffic, or shooting in a grungy Motel 6 in exchange for lodging, or adding an extra hour detour to my morning did not seem worth the time when I could drive to my general shooting area, sleep in my car and have the morning to myself. I do not do this often, but occasionally it is my preference. I had a comfortable bed the other night, and will have a couch tonight and accommodations for the foreseeable future, so a night crumpled in my car is a reminder about my youth, vitality and how fortunate I am to be living with a bit more freedom than some people, even if it means cramped quarters. I can still afford my Starbucks coffee (the $2.25 drip, not the fancy coffee, mind you) and breakfast sandwich, but the overpriced Boston-area hotels hardly seem worthwhile when I will be climbing around rocks and trees soon after waking.

My timer is ringing. I must now dunk my head in the bathroom sink, run my fingers through my hair and drive to the park where I will spend the morning creating art with my form entangled in nature.

 These are a few self-portraits taken on my final morning in Houston, moments before hopping in my car to begin this season’s road trip. I’m long overdue for another self-portrait session.

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