I sat outside of the cafe’ sipping my latte, reading my book, and feeling like I was home. Probably because I was home. Moving back to western north carolina has felt strange in many ways. Mostly because I feel like I’m moving backwards. Not emotionally or spiritually or mentally. But, I’m physically moving back. I’ve never in my grown life returned anywhere. I’ve always been moving forward and moving on. Sometimes losing sight of what’s really important, particularly, lasting relationships. Although we moved to Waynesville and not Asheville, it still feels like I’ve moved back to my hometown. Possibly because of the amount of time that we spend in Asheville meeting friends or going out. But, as I sat outside of the cafe’ watching tourists appreciate everything that was my hometown. I couldn’t help but realize how much I’ve missed it.
Not as much in the sense of longing for it, but, I mean there are things I’ve missed. I see people visiting who look at every nook and cranny that Asheville has to offer, they’re looking over bridges to see what’s below and sitting and really watching people perform on the street. It made me realize that because I know what’s under that bridge, I never look there anymore, or because it’s the same beautiful saxaphone player that I photographed when I was 15, I didn’t feel the need to photograph him again.
So, even though I may know what’s around the corner, I’m making a deal with myself to look anyway and to look closely, because you never know when there will be something new that I don’t want to miss.
**This photo is of Angela, one of my BEAUTIFUL brides when we did her bridals in downtown Asheville.**
with love and seeing like a tourist,