I was trying to explain to K that I have a sense if curiosity and wonder about the area I am from that I have never had before in my life. And yet, I am still caught unaware at moments by something like the kind of rage I had in high school. Yhe thought that the afternoon was wearing away today and most of the family was busy with work or errands and I should like to get myself downtown to take pictures, to wander around decaying cigar factories, or the Tampa Theater or even drive to Silver Springs--I lived here all my life and never went on the glass bottomed boats. But that is impossible as I do not drive or bike and the bus system is almost nonexistent.
It's not a complaint, just a fact really and what I have been trying to do with these photos is explore the landscape I do inhabit here--the parking lots and narrow beach fronts and back porches. The colors in this one photo--the windows and the sky--pretty much map out how the innermost emotional topography breaks down for me. I've wanted, for as long as I can know, to map myself along the curve of the colors in the highway and on the horizon over the flats and swells of the bay, but I can’t find any medium that allows me to enact or draw to scale that expansiveness and that glimmering acuity.
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