This weekend I felt like I was swept up in a crazy photo-taking tornado. We began on Saturday at five in the morning and Liz and I finally admitted defeat at ten thirty after light painting in the cemetery. The rest of our group continued to the fair, but being the old ladies we are, we knew we needed at least a little sleep if we wanted to actually enjoy life on Sunday. It felt like I had just finally shut my eyes when my alarm went off. I can’t even explain how disorienting it is to wake up at five on a Sunday. Immediately I wonder,
“Where am I?”
“What is my name?”
“Why am I awake?”
And then it slowly returned to me that I have a name, and I live in Guatemala, and oh yeah, I need to haul out for more photos. The weekend was exhausting and depleting, but also beautiful and inspiring. Our teacher was helpful and kind and funny, and the group of nerds enjoyable. We are also indebted to our police friends as they stood by to protect our gear, but clearly not our dignity as is evidenced above. I can’t wait until we can all play again.