Week or Year?

So I haven’t woken up, but I also haven’t slept…I suppose that leaves me in some vague half-real limbo.  We’re stuck somewhere between a life that burned and a life we have to build again.

My most important tool and one of my most important possessions, my camera, is gone.  Someone picked it up in the midst of all the mess and didn’t bother to give it back, even though it had the first documentation of the physical damage stored on its precious SD card.  I would have been fine if just the camera had disappeared.  I can replace it for forty dollars.  But the SD card is gone.

Today we begin the salvage.

I had a pheonix tattooed on my back years ago.  It has become, as one would expect, an even better representation of myself within the last week.

The story is that a pheonix rises from the ashes.  Lovely, yes.  No one ever mentions that one has to trudge through the ashes and breath and taste the ashes before any kind of rebirth can occur.

I have not been back to the site for several days.  The emotions tied to the reminders are becoming more overwhelming.  They become stronger as it all becomes more real.

I’ve extended an invitation to Austin area photographers to come to what is left of my home and document the salvage.  Most people tend to be extremely private and guarded concerning their personal tragedies.  I don’t feel that way.  I’m willing to allow my grief to be documented, for the pain to be photographed and recorded and perhaps observed by those who see the art that comes from it.

I have little time or money to prepare for this journey into the scene of what was my worst nightmare.  All I really need are my boots and my flashlights, a mask, gloves, and lots of trash bags.

And courage.

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