Vacations are a doorway to an alternate reality, at least they are for me. Vacations are a glimpse of what my life could be like if I could ever woke up and was a (paid) creatively-driven photojournalist or had married a younger, more chiseled (former navy seal or hot photojournalist) clone of Rick Steves or someone who works for him. For 7-10 days or so, I get to live that fantasy, traveling via plane or car hopping from city to city, gratefully accepting the hospitality of others so I can live at least as a creatively-driven traveling photographer, even for a short time.
I came back Sunday and was attacked by a thick coating of pollen, quite a bit of which came from this tree:
The pollen-related headache and opening the door and walking back into my apartment quickly snapped me back to reality, the reality where I work a day job, I pay have and pay bills, and photography is just a hobby (and I’m not married to a chiseled former navy seal traveling photojournalist). I cherish each vacation I get, because the alternate reality helps me enjoy my current reality, but not only that, those short bursts of alternate reality show me that life is possible and maybe not as far out of my reach as I think.
The reality of vacations is just a preview for my retirement into full time photography, whatever that looks like.