After sleeping my first 17 hours back in the country I got out and wandered the streets, eager to set my senses back to Africa. Rasta is my new name, apparently, but I’m liking it much more than mzungu.
I’ve been back in Kenya about three weeks now. So many things I could have said in the last few months, but haven’t really had to umph to write any of it down. Well that’s not true. Maybe it’s just been too intense to share just yet. Too sensitive.
But I wish I would have written more.
I would be lying if I said my time in the States was a breeze. Don’t get me wrong, I needed it. I needed to feel connected to something. I needed to be loved up on. To remember what it felt like to be known.
But it was hard to cross-pollinate ideas. To reconcile both lives. I think it’s easier for me to forget America than it is to forget Africa. Maybe not forget? But live outside the realm of.
As for now, I’ve thrown myself back into work. The book (Africa by Road, which may be going for a second run soon) was my main project while I was Stateside. Which, although was new and fun, doesn’t quite compare to the feeling of being out in the field shooting.
One of the hardest things about being a freelancer is time management, or so I’m learning. At the moment I should be entering cutlines and data into 124 edited photos from my shoot with the UNFAO this week, but it’s much more entertaining to show off some of the photos.
So please forgive me for the lack of words lately. There are more to come soon when my brain can re-route in cohesive concepts. Until then, here are some photos from my time in Kisumu and Machakos this week.