Eye of the storm

Tropical storm coming ashore

Alone on a Sunday night after a long day at the beach, I can still taste salt on my lips, and feel his warm hands on my skin. Too distracted to sleep, my emotions come in tumultuous waves of contradictions. At once drowning in regret over a shipwrecked affair, then grasping for the new lifeline that’s been thrown to me.

Before a tornado strikes, the maelstrom bears down like a fierce freight train. When a hurricane makes landfall, as the tempest swells, it’s perfectly calm and quiet inside the eye.

Do I reboard the train or stand in the eye?

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Quiet

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I believe all good fiction includes an element of truth, and all good photography includes an element of fantasy. In this journal I hope to give voice to the stories swirling around in my head, and to capture the images I see through my camera’s lens.

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