notes on life : capture

I have three rolls of 35mm sitting on my next for weeks now; I'm not even sure what I shot, instead my curiosity finds itself in the numbers of each ISO.

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I once heard a clear explanation of grief vs. depression, and at the time I knew exactly where I stood. 

Now I'm less exact. I think that grief triggered my depression that had been laid to rest for decades prior, and nowadays, is a different shade of gray.

Insidious and sneaky, it skulks and sidles, patiently waiting for the opportunity to deliver that perfect sucker punch to take you down.

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I clip onto my bike and that is my salvation. I see all the shit I want to lose and leave behind as murky and gray. I see its hands gripping the back of my seat, its legs locked, feet skidding as it tries to hold me back. And I see my heart illuminating the road in front of me, pumping to the pulsating rhythm of the music, sweat and lately sometimes tears, pouring off of me.