Photo Set: Visiting Home

Visiting home is always a spe­cial kind of experience.

I always wanted to leave the place where I grew up. 

I felt sur­roun­ded by people who enjoyed fix­ing engines, drink­ing beer, and watch­ing sports. I read hun­dreds of inter­est­ing books but nev­er found any­one with whom to dis­cuss any single one.

I was­n’t spe­cial; I was just con­tex­tu­ally out of place.

But bright sum­mer nights offered a wel­come form of relief:

When every­one was fast asleep, I’d throw a note­book in my back­pack and go for a long walk. I’d be think­ing about media, sci­ence, polit­ics, lit­er­at­ure, edu­ca­tion, and art. Those are, by far, my best child­hood memories.

C’est la vie.

When I tell people that I don’t suf­fer from sen­ti­ment­al­ity, most people assume that I’m being indifferent.

But when your first true love is think­ing about things that few oth­er people seem to care about, the concept of leav­ing some­thing sig­ni­fic­ant behind becomes ali­en. If you care about some­thing, you carry it with you — inside your head.

How else does any­one bring any­thing of importance?

People who mis­take me for being indif­fer­ent often approach life dia­met­ric­ally oppos­itely. They get sen­ti­ment­al about the pos­it­ive exper­i­ences they leave behind. And they bring their neg­at­ive exper­i­ences with them, like back­packs filled with issues.

I nev­er left think­ing about media, sci­ence, polit­ics, lit­er­at­ure, edu­ca­tion, and art behind me. So, there’s no need to reminisce. 

Why invite sen­ti­ment­al­ity over mat­ters nev­er lost?

I don’t miss this place, home. I’m still con­tex­tu­ally out of place here.

But I do know how to cre­ate worth­while memor­ies here:

As soon as every­one is fast asleep, I take a long walk on the bright sum­mer night with a note­book in my back­pack and a cam­era over my shoulder, think­ing about media, sci­ence, polit­ics, lit­er­at­ure, edu­ca­tion, and art.