i'm sitting listening to a playlist that i made last night for a friend of mine, and the tears are rolling down my cheeks. the list happens to be for a friend who's in a space where she doesn't want to communicate right now, and i'm scared for what that means for her, and bereft for what it means for me. i hope it hits her even a fraction of how it's hitting me. the history goes deep. she knows bits of me that no one else does, and you don't exactly dig those out and serve them up to someone else. they stay there, for the knowing if not for the sharing, right where i put them. with someone whose viewing point i've relied on for years, for a myriad of reasons.
the tears are mingled, selfishly, with a few for my camera which was stolen out of the car last night. the camera that is pretty much an extension of my right hand, and has helped me tell my stories for the last 3 years. it's changed my viewing point a lot, and is what's helped me tell my stories when the words won't come. which is a lot of the time lately. earlier this week i'd made peace with the fact that this might be a photo blog for awhile, as i really need to get stuff out, even if i can't write.
perhaps i have to find the words, or go crazy.