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But she won't understand why anyone would have to try

To walk a line when they could fly

15 September 1976
Each man's life represents a road toward himself, an attempt at such a road, the intimation of a path. No man has ever been entirely and completely himself. Yet each one strives to become that-one in an awkward, the other in a more intelligent way, each as best as he can. Each man carries the vestiges of his birth-the slime and eggshells of his primeval past-with him to the end of his days. Some never become human, remaining frog, lizard, ant. Some are human above the waist, fish below. Each represents a gamble on the part of nature in creation of the human. We all share the same origin, or mothers; all of us come in at the same door. But each of us-experiments of the depths-strives toward his own destiny. We can understand one another; but each of us is able to interpret himself to himself alone.
I wanted only to try to live in accord with the promptings which came from my true self. Why was that so very difficult?
~From Demian by Hermann Hesse.

I'm a (sometimes) tortured (sometimes) optimistic 34 year old creature who spends her time on earth (these days) anchoring the morning news on two local radio stations, news-directoring for four stations, reporting, writing, editing news, taking pictures, and (also) (apparently) putting words between parentheses. I also like to throw back a pint or two at the local watering hole and spend time with my fabulous fiance and cute bulldog.

I like to fool myself into thinking I'm a writer and a photographer...but I don't do either nearly enough to justify titling myself as such.