Nashville, TN: "Just a few more hours"
Most of my room is packed up, ready to fit into my Honda. Thank you so much Jenn for your packing expertise. Cross your fingers that everything fits without too much rearranging!
Tonight was my last photography class teaching at Vanderbilt. I've taught this class 7 times over the semesters, and it will be strange to leave the darkroom.
What does it mean to leave a place? To rise like Guilliver from the tiny ropes and anchors holding a giant down. Lifting up sometimes seems impossible. Yet, the earth is shallow, and we are huge. So, I rise.
A rough poem of alternating quatrains in tetrameter describing some of my thoughts on the move:
Moving, Part I
-Abigail Browning
The gravity locations hold
with tiny, strong, translucent ropes,
tied with granny and with hangman folds,
seems macro in my microscope.
The strands: my friends, VU, VR
and dancing at the honky tonks;
But now they're photos in my car,
Or thoughts soon vanishing to honks
From a horn. I can’t see out the back--
Five years in Nashville crowds inside
my car. This hermit crab has packed
her home for the mystic seaward ride.
New haunts? H&M, the Mall,
The Capitol and Dupont, the Spy
Museum, ample urban sprawl
With shops and restaurants to try.
Six hundred miles to drive today.
The destination on my GPS:
“Cecilia’s house,” Great Falls, VA.
My life: an educated guess.