If i could go back in time to when i was 14 and tell myself that 15 years from now, you'll be living in this same town, I probably would have gone outside in front of my parents house and hung myself from my favorite tree. Indeed, Kingston was a terrible, awful place to be as a teenager, it didn't really matter why, you just knew that pretty much any other place in the world would be better than this, it just had to be. Things improve a little bit after you get your license and get the fuck out of high school, but the 'grass is greener' mentality holds fast till you do something about it. Unlike most of my friends, who migrated to Brooklyn, i chose to go north to Montreal for college. After immersing myself for a few years, i returned home to Ulster county and realized how hard i had been on the area - as small towns go in America, we have no idea how good we have it here upstate - metropolitan peeps with open minded mentalities at a small town pace. We're lucky to have more art galleries than baptist churches, good venues and a music scene to match - farmers markets and historic districts. So, um, where for art thou, satisfaction?
I drive by my childhood house several times a week, and my favorite tree is still out by the road. I drove by today in no particular rush and was compelled to stop - and of course, once i was standing under the tree I was even more compelled to do what i did years ago: climb it. I mean, i climbed this tree all the time, it was the best place to be in a water balloon fight, a sweet lookout post for seeing neighborhood kids coming down the streets on BMXs, or just a spot to chill out and read Tin-Tin comics and choose your own adventure novels. I had my first 'girlfriend' in the 5th grade and i was so excited that i clumsily carved a heart into the trunk, surrounding the initials C+J - before heading up the tree, i tried to find it but came up empty: not a trace. Tree bark and human hearts seem to have similar characteristics when it comes to closing wounds. I thought i'd never get over it, the scars would never fade! Ahhh: 5th grade. We moved from Kingston when i was 15 and i never climbed that tree again.
Anyway, i was amazed at the instinct and memory i had, knowing which branches to hold, which route to take. I remembered exactly where i would lounge and since the tree has been growing up too, the fit felt good to put my legs up and take a deep breath. I hadn't looked at Kingston from this perspective in a long, long time - my old house, renovated, is hardly the same house, but the sounds and the smells of that autumn air was unmistakable. And there i was, a big kid in the breeze, trying to remember what it was like to really not give a shit about anything outside of the moment.
Looking out between the remaining leaves - I still felt that theres something 'missing' here. Five years ago my primary solution would be to blame this town and say i needed to move, i needed a change of scenery, new people, etc etc. Instead, I've been enduring this feeling and trying to make the best of things, leaving has now become synonymous with denial: that i know whatever it is that i think is missing - it will carry with me from place to place until i figure it out. I could have stayed up there all evening, but it wasn't the same without a good book or someone to share the view with. Climbing down felt like climbing back out of the past, and i got older with every little hanging drop, by the time i was standing on the sidewalk, it was 2008 again. Touching, ain't it?
Maybe what i feel as 'missing' is really just the way life keeps us all motivated, if we ever felt truly content and complete, what would there be to live for right? Yea - keep telling yourself that... i know that my best is still ahead of me - but I'm skeptical that it won't show until after I find this missing piece.
The crooked heart that I butchered into the side of that tree was a first and a last. It didn't seem prudent to jinx myself ever again, ya know? I don't know what more I can do in living life now - Maybe i just want someone to climb trees with, up into the past - without fear of the future - in the breeze? Maybe that missing piece is an excuse to finally carve a new set of initials into a new tree.
Yep. You found me. I started this thing as part of a portfolio site - however, as you can see, no portfolio! Wrangling together like 15 years of photography, art, and design is a bitch, if you don't want to wait, hit me up. I usually don't write unless I have a lot to say - If you're looking for regular activity, you'll have better luck over at my Tumblr!
