i keep telling myself and casually mentioning to others that i don't want to model for a living for too long. i've started to question whether that's me speaking, or the parts of me that are sympathetic to my lover who doesn't see me for months or the part of me that craves a consistent set of friends.
the truth is i love leaving places, people and things.
much of this comes from the knowledge that i'll be back eventually, and the reunion will be sweeter the more i take my time, but i think some strange fetish for goodbyes speeds me on my way as well. heather's post made me think quite a bit about this.
i feel it's impossible to do this any way but alone.
i spent 13 hours in my car yesterday between rochester, NY and nashville, TN with no companion but mary jane and my jumbled music collection. by the end of it all i was giddy and hallucinating. not in an anxious, tired sort of way either, i just saw dotted white lines in my dreams last night. the open road is more intoxicating than any drink you can pour me.
the truth is i am so in love with what i do, and how i do it, that it scares me a little.
the negative aspects of the industry bother me quite a bit as well, but i think it's my comfort and abandon that cause me to want to seek my bread and butter elsewhere. i'm sort of a damn fool, aren't i?
(reposted from original location for relevance.)
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