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As change continues to plague my life, I've been forced to take a look back into the past. I pick up the antique mirror that sits on my vanity, greened with oxidation and tarnished with age, and peer through the fogged glass. I can just see her, only just: a girl that I had once likened to Eleanor Rigby.
She would always wander alone, be it through the town's empty cemetery on the hill or the long desolate roads of the rural highways; the solitary sound of her heels clicking with each step she took her only company. Often she'd carry a hand drawn map in her hand. She'd clutch it tightly as she ventured far away to new places she'd never been to as if it were some token to guarantee her safety or perhaps more so some chance ticket to a place where the grass would be greener and the sun would shine brighter. In days like these I wish that I had a map of these sorts to lead me through the unknown. But I don't. And so, instead of blindly pursuing a hidden path in the dark I look back to the days of Eleanor Rigby and retrace her steps - hoping again that I may find the greener grass and the brighter sun that I wished for so many years ago.
She would always wander alone, be it through the town's empty cemetery on the hill or the long desolate roads of the rural highways; the solitary sound of her heels clicking with each step she took her only company. Often she'd carry a hand drawn map in her hand. She'd clutch it tightly as she ventured far away to new places she'd never been to as if it were some token to guarantee her safety or perhaps more so some chance ticket to a place where the grass would be greener and the sun would shine brighter. In days like these I wish that I had a map of these sorts to lead me through the unknown. But I don't. And so, instead of blindly pursuing a hidden path in the dark I look back to the days of Eleanor Rigby and retrace her steps - hoping again that I may find the greener grass and the brighter sun that I wished for so many years ago.
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something about your words and photographs just always pull me in, no matter what the topic. i too am going though a strange, change filled season. this spoke right to me.
ReplyDeleteYou always write such beautiful and eloquent pieces. I always love reading whatever you have to say :)
ReplyDeleteAlecia xx
lovely words Lucy. I hope your hand drawn maps lead you to happiness and good memories quickly xo
ReplyDeletelovely piece of writing:-) and the photos are lovely, too! xx
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, dreamy photos! Love those shoes with the socks and polka dot dress so much :)
ReplyDeletePs, just saw your response to my comment in regards to your degree - I am doing Education too!
DeleteSuch lovely writing! I can definitely relate to some of these feelings right now.
ReplyDeleteI love the cemetery pics and your beautiful words. Your shoe choice reminds me of Dorothy Gale!!
ReplyDeleteThis is beautiful. I've been looking for that brighter sun all my life.
ReplyDelete/Avy
http://mymotherfuckedmickjagger.blogspot.com
♥
All these photos and the text go so well together.
ReplyDelete-Kati
Your outfit is divine and those graves are sooo interesting.... I can't believe how old some of theose plts and headstones are!
ReplyDeletexoxo
Taylor
http://www.nothingbutapigeon.com/