Each year on my birthday, I make a self-portrait. Every one is telling of the personality of my year, though I don't intend it that way. This year, more than any year before, is about myself as part of a landscape rather than about a decontextualized exploration of "me". I'm a famous nomad; my friends know I can't be relied upon to stay in one place for very long - but that's changing, and my weary gypsy heart is glad of it. This porch swing - a spot that lets me occupy myself with movement while still staying put - caught my eye on my evening walk. It's not mine, but it called to me from its yard, and when I sat down in it and gazed at the evening sun setting over my neighborhood, golden light slanting and filtering over cold grass and pavement, I felt so calm I could've cried. Calm isn't a luxury that those of us who live in the wind often feel. And for the first time in a very, very, VERY long time...I felt a sense of place, a sense of belonging, like I might be confident my boots would clunk over the same sidewalk a decade from now to make a photo on my birthday, on the same porch swing that isn't mine, in the dying light of the same setting autumn sun. #shortstory #autumn #makeportraits #atlanta #atl #thesouth #luckyhandpress