The Art of Losing isn’t Hard to Master - April 2020

Sometimes, when I take Charlotte out for a walk at night, I think about if I’d want to stand for just one minute within July 13th. Watch you move. Feel your love. Watch us together. Feel you connected to it all, Home, Char, Catsby, me, them. Feel what it was like to greet excitement in the morning with the chance to travel across the country to take pictures, of course, after getting to wake up next to you. To welcome friends for dinner, drinks, arms. Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to get one more minute there holding it all. Runny egg yolk heart. Crinkly eye smiles contagious. Magic Life. Even though I know the destruction that would come being ripped through the cosmos back to this moment. Transmogrification: Just add death.
I kept Charlotte alive, I kept the house, I cried when I signed all the contracts for photography this year cause I didn’t get to share/celebrate it with you. I cried when a global pandemic took em all away because I didn’t get to share/grieve it all with you.
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‘The Art of Losing isn’t hard to master.’ Turns in my head
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I try to hear you now. Well, always. I know you’d say something to make me laaaaugh and roll my eyes and see it altogether new. You always had a way of standing in such a different spot, you could see it all from another angle. Sometimes, where you stood made you feel alone but it was one of your many gifts you had to give to the world. You had to. That sight. That angle. That heart. We listened. I miss hearing about those angles. I know whatever you’d say would be so quick and witty, deep and heartfelt, heartstrings, passion for sucking the marrow from the bone of life, it would make me walk outta the ruts I was rotating in, it would make me open my heart just a little more each and every day, it would help me hold strength I’ve always held but was scared to own. .
I am still open.
I am still listening.
I would take the minute.
Just to get to watch you. 
And, see it all from one of your strange beautiful, of course, how did I not see it, angles. 
I am always lookin’ for em. Listening.