As dreams go, the photographer dream surpassed the writer dream about two years ago.
I’ve evolved, more fascinated by the just-so curve of light than the tender sculpting of words.
Even so, as dreams go, the dreaming of one or the other is blurry and vague – a someday when sort of dream, a maybe I could sort of fantasy.
Still, all that vague dreaming led me here to this one moment of doing,
A once and for all commitment.
And that’s the truth of it.
Do dreams age?
(Like I have?)
My stubborn streak walks hand-in-hand with my lack of confidence, and I’m walking straight into the sudden realization that dreaming is safer than doing.
Even riskier than doing, however, is deciding.
And that’s already been done.