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  • Retirement can be in some ways a wonderful thing, as long as I remember always to learn.

    I learned to ride a bike at a very young age. I learned all they wanted of me in grade school; how to read, add, subtract, multiply and divide. By high school I had learned calculus. I had lessons, and learned to play guitar. I learned how to knit, metaphorically speaking, when my heart was broken and needed mending. I learned to raise children, and sadly there were no classes offered me on this. I had to learn this from my children. I learned to swim, when my family helped me cross a wide stream to picnic in a forest meadow, and left me to cross alone, or remain behind when they went home.

    I learned to do so many things in my life, but I never learned to drown. I’ve never immersed myself in anything so deeply that I lost myself. Photography is becoming the ocean in which I might just learn to drown. I learned the mechanics of the cameras and the darkroom in high school, I just never made it the biggest part of my life. I had a family that meant I couldn’t become overindulgent In any of my selfish creative endeavors, I had to support them, and that meant a regular job.

    Photography, among other creative facets of my life got pushed into the shadows of my life. Retired now, images have become a brooding sea of waves that I cannot resist or fight, and I haven’t even thought or dreamed about holding my breath to save my life. I’m going to learn to drown now, and I’m loving it.

    Photo credit; Danielle Noreen Douglas, my daughter, and edited by me.
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