More on Stars in the Belly

My grandniece took the above photo of me. I'm wearing my favorite shirt.
When I want to be my best self, I lean toward this shirt.

Unknown Pleasures, it reads at the bottom.

Yeah, I'm that see-through, that obvious.

Reminds me of being in sixth grade (middle school). Mrs. Waldrop was my teacher. She required you to only write in pencil. I stood at the pencil sharpener, noticed the colorful signs on the wall.

One read:

Smile. They'll wonder what you've been up to.

I think this affected me far more than what was expected.
I began to value smiling, but I also began to value having a reason to inspire Wonder.

*

I shot the next photo while my sister drove us to a Zumba class in Silsbee, Texas.
She tricked me into teaching this day. It was the first time I taught a class in front of a family member.

The bathroom in the studio was painted hot pink. I shot a self-portrait in it with my phone.
My first song requires a lot of boxing technique. Once upon a time I was a little obsessed with boxing.

Below, two photos shot in the air. The beginning of the flight / the end of the flight.

I met a woman named Georgina. She sat beside me (12A & 12B).
I shot a self-portrait with her, but I won't show it here.

She invited me home with her. She was drinking heavily. She was very beautiful and wore red-bottom shoes.
Her shirt was blue silk, her skirt was tan leather.

When she and I walked through the airport together (before parting ways), there was a group of loud travelers. I have never, in my entire life, and for all the gorgeous people I have been near, seen any one person attract so much attention.

It was lovely.
It felt like watching someone slowly walk into a summer pool.

*

My first photo of New York was of a bridge. My (almost) last photo of New York was of a bridge.

I typed a few sentences about bridges. Bridges, analogy, closing sentiment.
I had to erase it. Delete it. White-out it.

Lastly, the first photo I took the morning after my arrival.
I'm not sure why I shot (or how I shot) a photo of one of my legs, of one of my feet.

In my 20/20 hindsight, I theorize that this is how I work best:
one foot secure, gardened and grounded; one foot so much in the clouds, I cannot spy it.

Oh but if we could figure out these patterns while making them:

And no matter what, we're making the patterns while figuring them out. Potentially so frustrating!