Salt Lake City...land of the free.

So here I am on a sunday afternoon blogging,  I never thought that would happen because sunday afternoons are for naps and eating.

The move to SLC went pretty smooth, but still pretty frustrating.  Why is moving so lame?  I think, for me, it's the idea of packing up everything you own only to unpack a day later.  It's the same kind of lameness that goes with washing your work clothes only to get them dirty...or washing your car and the next day it rains...or getting lost and having to backtrack where you've already been.  It's like that line from Seinfeld: "that was the longest possible way to get to where you already were!"  That's what packing feels like...what's the point?

Leaving the valley was harder than we thought it was going to be.  Even though we were packing for weeks, it still seemed to happen so fast.  In a matter of a few hours we rented a 24 ft truck, packed up rhett's house, the studio, my apt...and we were on the road.  Well, at least rhett, candyce and my mom were.  I decided to stay one last time in my apt and sleep on the couch and drive through the canyon in the light of day to see the fall colors.

Have you ever slept on a couch that is 2 inches too short?   It's lame to say the least.  Because the whole night you think that if you turned your head just right then you could straighten your legs.  You try that for a few hours before you realize it's a hopeless effort.  And before you know it, it's 5:45 am and time to go unpack.

I set off through the canyon in the blackness of morning...not even being able to see the trees.  I was drinking my last Stewarts Orange and Creme that I had been saving for a good time.  My random playlist treated me to songs of John Denver, Kenny Rogers, and Barenaked Ladies...which seemed to fit the mood perfectly.

It's weird, you can't really leave somewhere without leaving a piece of yourself behind.  And better yet, you can't really choose what parts of you stay and what parts you take with you.  You also leave people behind but take with you everything those people taught you, shared with you, and gave you.  It really is like a rebirth.  Everything around you is new, you have no where to go, no one to go see, you can't find a grocery store, even though you know there are still people that will help you only a phone call away, you can't help but get that alone feeling, time passes more slowly, you pay more attention to the people and things around you because your survival depends on it...I actually found myself looking in a phone book to find the nearest DI just so I could go there, sit on the couches, stare at the weird people that the DI attracts, and feel a little piece of something that, for some reason, reminds me of the home that I just left.

Your reminded of the people you love, the people you've lost, people you never got to know, people you've left, people that you will never know, people that have changed who you are, people who you hope that you've changed...experiences you had, experiences you never had the chance to have, experiences you turned down, time you wasted, times you cherish.

Then after all that, tomorrow it's back to work.  I've got a full day shoot that can't be postponed.  I'd like to sit back for a second and breath...but you can't stop.

here's to you Cache Valley,