When I'm not photographing butts at some dance event, making yet another change to the Dance Queens calendar, being always classy with Debauche, or shopping for more white hair with black ribbons and bows, I tend to stay in my home park.
It's a nice quiet neighborhood. Peaceful as a living painting on my desk at work, wondering when the next pointless meeting or confrontation will happen.
The park is infested with calico cats that represent my RL cat Tinny, who is usually either sleeping on my shoulder or in my lap. And there's the reading room for the stories, the orrery ceiling, the cabinet, and all that.
Despite years of searching for nicer mesh undergrowth, the sculpty flowers with oranges and yellows and reds like Von Gogh remain. Oh, I could have told you, Vincent... that episode of Dr. Who always gets to me.
The lighting, too. I've changed out the torches and lanterns and lamps over and over, never finding quite the right ones. And then I go back to the Trident rusty lanterns.
Same with the clocks in the trees. I've changed out those clocks every so often, from simple sculpty pocketwatches to mesh hoops to hanging clocks... until something better comes around.
And then there's the sections, like the wild blueberries, the pond of tears, the piano (psst Web), the rocks, the fence, the watermelon patch... if I see something new out there, I think about where it might fit in, or if it will fit in better than something else. As long as it doesn't become Pee Wee's Playhouse of chaos.
Oh my God, the bridges I've been through, so many bridges, so many sofas and chairs and hammocks and swings... finally, I've settled that once and for all... until I find better, of course.
Still, with little tweaks and adjustments there, it's still the park.
After every show, I upload the best-of photos and drop them in the mountain gallery, and then pick out the best solo shot to add to my running best-of-the-best collection.
There were times when the park was in the Destination Guide, and then times when I asked for it to be removed. It's a hard balance to find. I've managed to keep it from becoming one of those go-to photo spots that are always full of people rubberbanding around.
It's the same with the friends list, really. Add a few... then a few too many... remove a few... then remove a few too many. Over and over and over.
But there will always be the park, and as much as it stays the same, it's never going to stay completely the same for long.
Tell me about your home.