Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Independent Study

In college, I used one of my elective courses to explore an independent study with my instructor Dale Shidler. It was really my first attempt as a writer and as a photographer. Basically, I shot photos from around the Third Ward in Milwaukee on a snowy day and graphically designed my words onto the photograph. One of the photos is shown here; I have all of my finished work on a disk somewhere and I'll share those once they're located.

I think Dale might've been a little confused as to what exactly I was writing about because they were a little abstract, and I have to admit they were a little abstract in my mind, as well. I couldn't quite articulate what I was trying to say into words. I did come away with something though. The independent study never left me, I have thought about it for the last ten years and have obviously used it in many forms since then.

**Seizure** Apparently, this subject has gotten my brain all worked up!

As I was saying, I started writing this blog in 2010 but I've kept handwritten journals since college. It wasn't until I had my first seizure that my words had actually made sense in my mind. I was saying something, I was communicating, I had an audience.

Dale was my first audience member. The independent study is where I was first challenged as a writer and every piece I've written since then I've gained more and more confidence. Hopefully, in the days, weeks, and years to come my understanding of my thoughts will grow along with those of you who wish to read my words.

Tuesday, August 27, 2013


Last week I had seven seizures in seven days. We may not be out of the woods yet seeing as though the heat seems to be the culprit. It's tough because I've been staying indoors and haven't been able to ride my bike on the prairie path or walk or the store. I can tell that there's a bit of depression lingering because my sleep during the day isn't fueled by being tired but rather a way to move the day along faster until I see Sara again at night.

I've been looking at old photos and found this one of Sara and I just when we moved in together in 2004. I was unpacking and she was preparing for her trip to Ireland where she would study for a month.

I look at this photo and remember all the good things from this time and seem to forget how hard it was to be without her while she was in Ireland, and I was alone in a new city. I'd done it before when I moved away to college in Milwaukee, and I do remember being very homesick, in fact that's the subject of my written senior thesis.

In Milwaukee I missed my house, my family, my dog, my room... but in Chicago all I missed was Sara. She was "home" to me. I think that's also true today. During the day, I'm just a man sitting in a room full of stuff, but when she walks through the door it becomes our home and I become a husband.