[Spoiler alert] It was a bit surreal writing this, because I had just MOVED to Portland, so i was sending Bruno back to Massachusetts, but knowing I’d then bring her back to this spot.
In the pre 9-11 world, you could actually greet your visitors at the gate as they got off the plane. Ah well.
I’ve always had a terribly conflicted relationship with the concept of people noticing me.
Also, moving to Portland, right around here, was when I started getting serious about photo-sourcing backgrounds, and so the background art picked up tremendously from here on out.
When I moved to Portland, I did it via a 6 month road trip. I don’t think I ventured out a terrible lot in the first week.
Love that background. And that was the kitchen of the house I lived in. What a pretty house.
And too often I’ve had to give myself pep-talks to get myself to go out. Sigh.
Another feeling I remember well of moving far from the home-area for the first time, constantly thinking romantically about how great it was back where I was from. Partly it’s a “don’t know what you got ’til it’s gone,” but it’s also partially a defense mechanism to avoid engaging where you are now.
It was hard when I first moved away from my home town area to go out and meet people. But, eventually you learn.