The truth about summertime.

21 June 201221 June 2012

I’m living in the house that my parents own for the summer, awaiting some other adventure. It’s in the country with a very big yard that has an ancient tree, its trunk thicker than any man, smack dab in the middle. During high noon of a sultry summer day, underneath its sprawling shade is the perfect place to be. I’ve been reading books (started my fifth book in two weeks last night) lying on couches, under covers, on hammocks, under trees, in the twilight. It has been a lazy, hazy summer dream. 

The truth is that life right now is sort of okay. 

Reading all day isn’t bad, and feeling all the space of the wide open country land isn’t too bad either. During the frenzied, task-filled days of my life I yearn for times like these. But all my social muscles are beginning to atrophy because I’ve only interacted with my parents and fictional characters in the past week, plus the wide open country land spreads so far that civilization feels like an elite club of which I’m no longer a member. 

I’ve been reminding myself to see the beautiful things by picking up my camera. Sometimes, I see things more clearly through the lens. The photos above embody that. 

Let’s be honest, last night I went outside to read because I was feeling SO LAME for sitting in the house and the clouds reminded me of the cover for the album Shallow Grave so I brought my camera and that stupid pup, who always bites my ankles when I walk, followed me. I had been shooting photos of the sky and I guess I kind of realized the pup is actually kind of cute when he’s being playful so I took some photos of him, too. Eventually, I didn’t feel too bad about being a lazy bum. 

I’d love to hear your thoughts. Is it all about perspective? How do you remain inspired when you’re in a lull?