Maine— just being here stirs up some things. I guess there are qualities about a place that never really go away. You love parts of it, people in it, m e m o r i e s associated with it… but you can’t really bring yourself to admit you love all of it for all the heartaches, drawbacks, and things it lacks. But you ignore those faults anyway and surround yourself with people you love and good energy. That’s what being home is. I think that’s what contentment is. It’s not just a love for, but it is also forgiveness of, a past you cannot change.
–December 19th, 2016
This post is something entirely new for me– a concept, a photojournalistic experience of a place many of you will likely never get the chance to see in December (I wouldn’t blame you, it’s absolutely frigid… and Maine sort of sucks in the winter). Despite all those things, it is a place I still fondly refer to as ‘home’ located in a little town called Camden, smack dab in the middle of the coast of Maine.
After going home for a solid month, I thought I’d give a little glimpse through my own figurative and literal lens to the Maine experience. This post sort of details all of the little things I found so beautiful where I once saw nothing as a teenager and a kid. It’s so odd to realize how times can change. I won’t lie– I think about my life and the life that could have been there, all the time.
I hope you are able to feel the way I felt being home– a dreamlike state of being neither here nor there. I also hope that same part of you falls in love with the very people, places, and things that I did.