Passion is Calling

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Rawly burnt out, I find myself craving to be refreshed, letting go of the “do, do, do” that has waded up in a ball so tight, it makes thinking impossible, and functioning but a fleeting memory. I want to run, yet rest.

I want to put down the camera and live in the moment; look at a scene and think, “That would make a good black and white photo for someone,” savoring my smallness amongst the trees and stare long into nothingness.

But my passion clings to me, it calls me from the depths to engage, to branch out beyond my memory and take hold of the future.

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