Something about walking in the misty gray afternoon reminded me of the time we visited a commune. I was thirteen at the time and we had recently packed every inch of our Pinto station with essential belongings before leaving Indiana behind. She wanted to move to the commune and live with a bunch of strangers in a place I’d never see or heard of. What I knew about communal living was pieced together from movies I’d seen like Alice’s Restaurant, Easy Rider, and Yellow Submarine. By the time we drove into the wooden enclave of patched together houses, homemade clothes, vegetarian fare, and shared everything, I was dead set against calling the place home (for better or worse).
I’m giving this yearlong project a spin. Undoubtedly, I will fall and pick up again. Knowing this makes it easier. Still, I plan to show up to record a short photo and story of my day. You’re welcome to join me. I’d love it really. We can give each other high fives and geek out with a hashtag (#ayearofus), not because everyone is doing it, but because we’re doing it, together. Showing up every damn day to make this creative habit real.