i’ve got a jar of lone star

Everyone has different ways of coping with homesickness. Some people write about it, others embrace it.. but me? I carry a jar of dirt with me, yup — thats right. Texas dirt. Texas is the first place away from Denmark that i’ve ever felt at home or like i could stay there for the rest of my life; as a drifter thats saying a whole lot. I haven’t opened the jar since we left almost three years ago, the ground inside is from our little piece of land on the outskirts of town, the leaf was the first that fell and the empty bullet well thats another story.  My little jar of Lone Star sits by my bedside and comforts me when the days get too long. I think back to that brick house where the coyotes used to gather like fruit flies, where i ended up showering with a lizard and an angry scorpion consistently hid in my boots.

When night fell over Gazebo street our backyard became a fair ground of playing stars dancing for the limelight. We’d stand and watch them roll, shoot and shine for hours whilst the mosquitoes bled us dry. It was worth every minute.
I remember one evening when summer was turning to autumn. We slept with the window open. Around 4.30am i heard a high pitched eerie howl as beautiful as ever it could be. Outside my window was a lone coyote, right outside. I didn’t dare look but i could smell her breathing and i sure as hell could hear her singing. The wind was almost cool and soothing — rare for South East Texas.  In the distance a whole band of coy dogs began to yip and yawh, so my friend of the night disappeared into the brush. I will never forget that early morning, and though i was too freaked out to look through the dark for her, it is one of my fondest memories. I have a soft spot for coyotes and wolves, for farmers and ranchers they’re little devils, but to me they’re like me. Drifting from place to place and part of the pack.
My pack amounts to three, and thats how it should be.
So there on my bedside table is my comforting jar of dirt that wakes a memory or two.

the dark wood

I shot this while on a walk with my sister  in the woods. When i was planning my trip to the fatherland there were a few things i wanted to  experienced. One – Snow! Two – Christmas Hygge with my family and three – to visit the forest. Im happy to say now that i completed all three and more! As a child i always remembered the forest as being a beautiful magical place where dreams hide in the streams of sunlight and trolls chewing stones hiding out of sight. If it hadn’t been balls cold outside i would have seriously considered going to sleep on the bed of moss nature so kindly provided. The forest provided a peace i haven’t felt in a long time. All turmoil and stress disappeared — helping me realise what i want in life and that i’m doing good on my road to somewhere.
I’m not behind – i’ve always chosen a different road to everyone else because that makes life interesting, and whilst i’ll always feel a little old thats the price i have to pay for the wisdom. I’m kinda ok with that — thats a card i’ve been dealt in life since the beginning.
I moved to Texas (so far from everything i’ve ever known) as a 19 year old, and i’ve gone further since then. I’d be lying if i said i hadn’t been somewhat procrastinating with certain things like my photography and writing, but this year i’ve been slowly turning it around.
My camera goes everywhere with me, as does my moleskin note books and i have myself for company so theres always entertainment readily available.
In all seriousness though, moving around the USA with a man that totally makes waking up every day worth while has changed my life. All i know now is that i have to do what i’m good at and whilst not all of those things will make money — thats ok, they don’t have to.
It’ll make me happy and thats important.
That day being with my sister in the back end of nowhere Denmark, was my epiphany — my realisation that everything, though sometimes terribly hard, will be ok.
Goodbye to a year of utter grief, hardship, old bras and success.
And hello 2018.

I wish you all the best in 2018 — don’t make resolutions, make changes that make you happy. 
You won’t always have a tomorrow. 

the dark wood