It occurs to me that I very rarely post pictures of myself here (or anywhere, for that matter), and it's because I very rarely like pictures of myself. But here's one anyway, because, while it's no longer the year of "Try It," it is "The Year of Writing Dangerously" (and, for me, this counts as the latter):
I kind of like it, actually. My dad took it over Labor Day weekend when I was manning (womanning?) my booth at the County Fair. It's one of those weekends of my life I will likely never forget, mainly due to the confluence of extremely stressful/world-altering events that were all going on at the same time in my personal and professional life.
It's a bit blurry (which is maybe one of the reasons I like it), and my hairstyle's changed since. But I don't know. Maybe it's the conversation I had with an old friend about martial arts last night - how that type of discipline can break you open in necessary ways, can give you a perspective from which you can start to see that you've actually made some progress along the path toward betterment. Man, that sounds cheesy. Hopefully, I'll figure out how to say it better someday.
Anyway, something about this picture makes me want to turn around and look at the path behind me. It makes me want to walk up to the gal smiling in her cute western shirt and say, "Right now, you're acting like it's all going to be okay. Keep doing that. Because you're right."
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