It’s still not here. No motivation to shoot fun pictures. Sometimes I take the camera out anyway, thinking that inspiration will just hit.
I live with this view as my backyard:
I watch monsoons trail by at dusk, but for some reason it’s not hitting me. I get flat where I should get sparks:
I look through old photos and re-edit them, thinking that I might find the magic in the past:
But I find only an awe that I once shot those photos. And so I resign myself to waiting some more. Grabbing life-shots to try and remember this time. Bouldering out in the woods with my girl:
Random shots so that when I’m old, I remember what it was like to be young:
I wait and hope that the magic comes back. I hope that a bit of magic hits me next week, when I try to write a one-year follow up to my departure for travel. I hope a bit of magic comes my way when the time is right, so that I can make even more magic happen.