When I was little, my parents used to make me go play outside on the weekends quite often. Sometimes I may have gone of my own choosing, I can't remember.
Either way, I spent an awful lot of time outside. When you are confined to a dirty, poor neighborhood and can't leave the vicinity of about 3 blocks or so, you make up your own fun.
I knew my street and the ones directly behind and in front of it, and maybe half a mile to the left and right like the back of my hand. I used to pretend that I was exploring and being pursued by some terrible villains and I had to hide in secret places to keep them from finding me. The whole deal. On these journeys I used to collect all kinds of junk. Rocks, broken glass, pieces of old toys, Christmas light bulbs, Shiny metal, buttons, all sorts of shit. I used to take them home and tell my mom they were my treasures. I'm pretty sure she thought it was the grossest thing, me finding and bringing home junk from the allies and keeping it in my room.
So soon after that my I began collecting rocks in a more hobby type of way. I'm sure this was highly encouraged by my parents. I couldn't have been more than 7 or 8 years old. I had pieces of every type of rock imaginable, polished and natural. I had little cases to separate each one and bags to hold them in if I wanted to carry them somewhere.
I used to get together with my best friend Cody, and he and I would compare rocks and play games in his tree house. As a girl, I loathed being friends with girls. I had loved Barbies and playing with hair like a girl should, but I also had a smart mouth, loved sports, art, bugs, animals and boys. The other girls I knew found my sarcasm off-putting (even as a child!) and the idea of me running through a field chasing horned frogs with the boys was even worse. In reality, I only disliked girls at school, because they were catty and prissy, and there had only been boys in my neighborhood and church before. While all the girls slumber parties talking about how much they hated boys, I played with the neighborhood boys and had real fun.
The thing is, once I started actually loving boys, I was still just their best friend. This was a trend that would continue up through high school, only girls didn't like me because I had a close relationship with the boys they dated. With more than a few guys, our friendships ended because they had been given an ultimatum, end the friendship with me or lose her. The funny thing is, each time their relationship would end, the boy would come back and we'd be friends again.
I realize that I was, and always have been, just the next best thing. I'm the one they tell all their hopes, dreams and desires to, I'm a girl they can actually have fun with, and so much more. But I am just a stand-in. An emotional and sometimes physical outlet for them until they find their next girlfriend. And the thing is, with most of them, I end up having feelings for them in some capacity. I stuck with my friend D more than once. He'd break up with one and it would be me that he'd call every single night, my shoulder that he'd cry on, and me he'd go out with. But he began dating a new girl, and I was finished. I thought, I can't handle this anymore. And I haven't gone back.<
As far as collecting junk goes, I would say I have transferred that passion into when I go out and take photographs of random places, things and people that I find beautiful. I can have all of those "treasures" but in a better way. This past weekend I went photo-walking with some friends in a sketchy neighborhood, and it felt just like I was in my first neighborhood again, observing and exploring everything I saw. Here are a few shots from that day:
