002. I'll see you in my dreams

I went to the farmer's market today for the first time this summer. It felt weird to be back there taking pictures like I used to. This whole blogging thing feels weird, but a good weird like, deja-vu weird. I'm remembering things I thought I had forgotten about a long time ago. Some of the bloggers I loved are still here, most of them aren't. The ones who are still here have different styles now, different ways of telling their stories.

I'm different too, my photography is different. Before, I never took photos of people. I took photos of plants, flowers, trees, food, animals. Basically anything but people. Now it feels like I’m only interested in people. I take photos of other things, but all my favorites photos are photos of people. I like people. I like talking to them, hearing their stories. I like people watching on the street. I like my friends probably too much. I can’t stand being away from my family for more than a few days.

When I used to blog, I didn’t like people too much. I’m naturally a pretty introverted person, but before I was extremely introverted. I was painstakingly shy and anxious all the time. It didn’t help that it coincided with my “I hate-people” tortured teenager stage.

I’m still introverted, and I still have a tendency to be shy. But I love people. I love their personalities, their mannerisms, their quirks, their inside jokes, and how everyone has a different laugh. I think that people are generally good, or at least no one is completely bad.

Maura Margaret

Comments

big city kitty

I'm from Kansas City, but I live in Chicago. Maybe those words are a little over-excited. Okay, maybe going to college some place isn't the same as living somewhere, like in an actual sense. But also in an actual-actual sense, in 2019 I will spend more time in Chicago then I will in Kansas City and wow oh wow isn't that weird??? I think about a lot about how when I moved to Chicago, I was the exact same age my mother was when she left it. And I think about how at the time she left she probably never would have guess that it was the beginning of the end of her living in Chicago, that she was about to meet the man who would take her away from that city. I think about how they both lived here when they were only a little older than I. About how they walked down the same streets and L stops and also stared out at Lake Michigan and felt the same way I feel when you first glimpse the Sears tower coming in from the red line. (I guess they probably would have taken the brown ...

the last of days

What do people who don't have a perfect nostalgic 50's diner that serves the world's most perfect onion rings and milkshakes that no doubt are imported from the land of milk and honey, wherever that is? How do they survive without the perfect visual metaphor for your idyllic adolescence, hundred of visits there after shows where you poured into the show everything your high school drama club member self could, on hot summer days where there seems like nothing else to do and you haven't seen your friends in ages, on pouring days where you dispense every ounce of wisdom you have to the tiny little baby freshman three years younger than you, after a long night out when the only thing you want to do more than sleep is have a god damn cherry limeade? How on earth do you do it? How am I gonna do it? I don't want this to be long, but it is 11:59 on Wednesday August 15th and tomorrow I am moving 500 miles away from home and all my friends and family and l...

i (hate) you like a (saturday) morning

This morning I made myself breakfast and tried to figure out if I like being alone. I made a pesto, mozzarella, and salami on toast sandwich, a fried egg, and strawberries just on the cusp of coming in season and wondered if I was going to make it. For my sandwich, I would have liked to have different types of meats and different cheeses. I would have killed for some sopressata and prosciutto, and maybe add some provolone and Gouda, oh that would have been divine. If it was spring or summer, I would have gone out to my garden and get some fresh basil, and if it were even later in the summer, I would have added a thin slice of tomato. Am I someone who needs companionship? Will I do okay alone next year, when I've never really been alone? I over salted the egg, but the strawberries were to die for and I thought about how far I'd be from all the people I love. A quiet morning eating and listening to Vance Joy's new album is the perfect setting to be filled with existe...

maura margaret

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