Izzy in the hospice booth. A hospice booth can be a quiet place at a county fair.

 August 19, 2008 – So I guess I’m an award winning photographer. I’m not sure of the total, but looks like at least two first place ribbons for my photos at the Washington County Fair Photography Contest, and some other ribbons – I didn’t quite get to look, as Izzy drew a pretty big crowd and I didn’t get to count. It was a big deal to me, and I felt I earned it, even as I have to grow and learn much more.
 It’s nice, to feel like a sort of a macro Michael Phelps, and if I didn’t get any Olympic medals, I did get recognition that mattered, and acknowledgment of hard work and growth, from peers, and I wanted to raise my arms and shout, then laughed at myself. So I’m an artist, now, and feel like one, and other artists are finding me, and I feel like I’m bumbling a bit into my place.
  I will be back next year, and covet more ribbons.
  Izzy and I hung out in the hospice booth, a quiet place in a county fair. He is an amazing creature, sitting in an Alzheimer’s unit one day, strolling down a quiet midway the next, as peaceful in one place as another, sharing my life.
   People don’t go to a county fair to talk about hospice, but they want to meet Izzy. I didn’t feel like taking photos tonight, too distracting with the dog, and I want to go back there tomorrow by myself and with the right equipment. I think I’ve found a farm family that will let me hang out with them one night, and I’ll sleep on a cot with them, and their cows.
  I am calming down, feeling less driven, centering my life as I am centering my photos. People tell me I’m doing a lot. I feel I am not doing much of anything.