A loving mess

When the last of her children left the nest, Betty finally had a chance to completely clean her house. She could clear out the clutter that drove her crazy for the past two decades.

After a week of tidying, scouring, dusting, vacuuming, donating, and bringing order to the chaos, the home was pristine. There wasn’t a mote of dirt anywhere, not a single thing out of place. It was also deafeningly quiet.

It was as if the old mess had a song all its own, and now it had lost its voice.

Her home didn’t feel lived in any longer.

Inspiration: Last


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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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