I always thought I would go back not long afterward when this was taken, but life did not make that possible. I cried really hard. Then I placed myself at a distance from wanting-pursuing it. I still feel so distant from it and so much has changed internally I don't even know if I would be able to if I got the opportunity to do the photographic work I wanted, but I would go back if I could. I don't think it is in the foreseeable future. I wonder if the photos I gave them are still on the walls if they wonder if I will make it back there. I read recently a quote saying the future only exists in the imagination. Sometimes I feel  like I balance myself by either bouncing along and being thrust violently, silently, unpredictably between what I imagine and what actually happens.