It's funny to say that I haven't been up to much, because I suppose that if I were to list out the various things that have happened to or been caused by me in the last few years, saying that I haven't been up to much would seem like an outright lie. Perhaps it is. Things are always in motion but when moving through life seems predictable or comfortable it gets a bit harder to pick out the salient points of a life less boring.
In short, I've returned to college, albeit briefly, started writing again and renewed my old interest in photography. Sure, it's mostly just through the use of Instagram... but everyone needs to start somewhere.
Writing, poetry mostly, was probably the most exciting things that I have started doing on a more regular basis. I can't speak to the quality of it, nor is the quality of much importance to me. I started writing because I was having a rough time between work and romance and life in general, and I started using fountain pens and jars of ink as a way of getting out of my own head... or rather finding a way to release feeling and thoughts I had become used to internalizing. So that's been fun.
I want to grow. Find myself another me, or perhaps the me I should always have been. Something I've long left behind and forgotten. It is harder than is seems, I think. So many people are ciphers, adapting themselves to those they find around them; those they choose to be with. To be fair I'm not even sure if that is a bad thing. But I want to spiral upwards and live as part of the ground. So for now, it's self-examination, intention, action and seed.
Oh yes.