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north65south · 7 years

Photo

this is in the back yard of stonetree studios in fishers, indiana.

the indy scene put on “fuck theft fest” to support a local photographer who had most of her gear stolen. there were a lot of things particularly impressive about this endeavor, not the least of which being that the entire thing was held not only in a relatively quiet neighborhood, but inside of someone’s living room, and ran from noon to nearly midnight.

but this is not a story about that.

this is a story about yet another weekend i spent in the middle of nowhere indiana, just to see some people i have grown to call family for a few days.

there were two separate times in the four days i spent up north where i found myself sitting on my ass, staring at the well-worn toes of my well-worn converse, and contemplating life. two times i found myself on the “outside” part of a venue during some down-time, sitting next to someone i see maybe a few times a year if i’m lucky (both times a different person).

i decided i was going to start taking pictures again.

more pictures again, i guess. i’m a visual person. i don’t need photos to prove something happened, but they evoke a certain part of memory that i sometimes can’t access otherwise. visual, i told you.

i guess if you’re going to be put on this earth, you might as well walk it.

nothing unpleasant happened this weekend. the closest i got to ‘bad’ was a subpar green tea at a starbucks i have now dubbed part of the “raspberry locations” (i might elaborate on the meaning of a raspberry location eventually, but it’s not important now other than to say that it’s not a good thing to be a raspberry location).

i spent four days feeling overwhelmingly content. relaxed. unworried. feeling…accepted.

i don’t infinitely strive to meet other peoples’ expectations for my life anymore. i try to forge my own path. i try to learn constantly. but rarely do i feel so loved and accepted as i do in the indiana music scene. it has its imperfections, as everyone inevitably does, but the indiana music scene has felt astoundingly welcoming to me since the first day i set foot on hoosier territory. indiana has seen more parts of me than anywhere else, i think, and that might have something to do with how trusting i’ve always felt there.

i had no pretenses to hide behind the first time i traveled the 300 or so miles to the hoosier dome to see the day after. (the second time i had been in the state, but the first time i had stayed longer than a few hours in the middle of the night – and yes, that was for another show, too). i went only to see a band play some songs. i had no other motives. i didn’t have to keep up appearances or be someone that other people thought i was. i knew five people in the entire state, as far as i was aware, and they were basically strangers to me, at least at the time.

if they didn’t like me, well…i never had to see them again.

the short of the story is that apparently they did like me, and so did a lot of other people, but most importantly – i liked me. i liked who i was in that moment. i liked the choices i made and the person i put forward. i met a lot of friends that night. i still meet a lot of friends every time i travel to indy. i let all my guards down.

there was something about the way that everyone in that packed music venue interacted with each other.

there was a mutual respect, a genuine caring, and it was fairly evident that this was not something you could intrude upon. either you were a part of it, or you weren’t present at all. it wasn’t exclusive; it was just too honest to be anything else.

i could sound like a complete lunatic talking this way, i realize. i have just always felt at home in indy. i’ve always felt accepted for who i am and who i want to be.

but i don’t want you to think that it’s a location that makes me feel this way.

i don’t want you think that i mean to say that this back yard in the photograph is important of itself.

i mentioned, both times i found myself sitting on my ass, staring at my shoes, i was sitting by different people.

it’s the people. the people are important.

i care about these people so immensely that sometimes i can’t find the words and instead have to settle for a half-smile that squishes my cheek up and makes me squint in one eye. it’s not quite a smirk, and it’s a bit lopsided, but it’s as genuinely fond as i can be, visibly.

in any case, these people seem to care about me. not the me that i am to so many people who grew up with me. not the me that has grown and changed and morphed over the years. the me that i am now. presently.

it’s not that the past isn’t important. it’s not as if it’s not even important to them. it’s that they don’t rely on who i used to be or who someone else believes me to be, to determine who i am. they let me just…be.

i grew up in one community for so long that sometimes i feel like i can never escape who i was. i tried to move to nashville to escape it, and i’m coming to understand that distance is not what it takes to break free of it.

it’s just a thought, i guess. but sometimes, you sit on your ass and stare at your shoes and realize that…

if the people who love you and support you are around, it doesn’t matter who you were. if you want to like yourself, all you have to do is like yourself. if you want to change yourself, all you have to do is change yourself. if you want to be something different…all you have to do is be different. and if you want to be…all you have to do is be.

this weekend was…being. it was being supported, and being loved, and being content, and being alive.

it was knowing what it felt like to be myself, unguarded and undone. i didn’t have to curate my personality like a history museum and only display the masterpieces edited to fit a certain thematic undertone.

that is all i strive for anymore. to be unguarded, undone, and uncurated. to open up. to myself and to others. to put out into the world that i am here, and i am alive, and i am being...and that i am happy to share. if you need someone to be uncurated with...i am here.

i don’t know if this meant any sort of anything to anyone reading it. i don’t know if you’re even reading it to the end or if you’re just skimming a bit. that’s okay.

when i first posted to this blog, i didn’t even think i’d ever share it. it was just to organize my thoughts. it was kind of an experiment. but the longer i wrote in this particular post, the more important it felt to share it.

i just wanted to explain what indiana means to me. i just wanted to say it.

i don’t know if it’s ever going to be part of my life that i get to spend more than a few days in indiana at a time. i don’t mind. it still feels the same. it still means the same.

at the end of it all, i just needed a place to put my love into sentences. i’ll keep trying to put it into concrete definitions, but the feeling i get is not something that can be assigned a meaning and an explanation. i’m a little bit redundant and a little bit ridiculous, though, so i’m going to keep trying.

i just know i’ve found happiness in the people i’ve met. in the music i’ve experienced. in the voices and the laughter and the breaths and the heartbeats and the life i’ve heard in indiana. i carry that with me wherever i am.

and my indiana is not the same as everyone else’s indiana, i know that. my indiana is my friends. (and that includes that grammatical transgression, but “my indiana are my friends is equally grammatically incorrect and it didn’t carry quite the same ring to it.) but every time i drive north…my indiana gets a little bit bigger.

with love,

nashville.

#indiana #some feelings and things #i quite like the phrase 'sitting on my ass staring at my shoes' and i'm not sure why #well here's some stuff i never thought i'd share but i say that a lot and i always do

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