Last night I was on a bus from Barnaul back home to Novosibirsk, a five-hour trip, in an old blue bus with seats upholstered in wacky-patterned velvet. There were six of us in this vehicle meant for 40. It was very comfortable. The best part was one passenger, a woman, was sitting up by the driver and she must have been telling some pretty funny stories because she was just laughing and laughing and laughing. Like, real, loud, unapologetic laughter that you don’t hear often on late-night public transport. And when she wasn’t laughing you could hear in her voice that she was smiling.

I listened from four rows back, snacking on mandarins and trying to measure the amount of snow covering the passing landscape to the snow that must now be blanketing New Hampshire.

I think about New Hampshire a lot. I miss New Hampshire a lot. I don’t write that as an expression of wanting to go home, but I’m grateful that I have a place to miss and to look forward to returning to in July.

It’s January 3rd and I’ve had a full week of winter break so far. I celebrated the New Year in Barnaul with a wonderful family and ate a lot and raised many glasses to 2020. I’ll write more about all of that in my next post. But the thing about spending time with such a wonderful family is it makes me miss my own wonderful family.

I just wanted to make a quick post because it’s been almost a month since my last one. I’ve been pretty consumed by 1) the end of the semester, 2) the holidays, and 3) just thinkin’ my thoughts and missin’ my people.

But, in the great words of esteemed artist Papoose, I’m back on my bullshit. I have the next 43 days off (I know, wild!!) and I plan to photograph more and write with some regularity (and while we’re at it with this resolutions thing: eat more vegetables, do more yoga, and talk to strangers on the bus who clearly have funny stories to tell).

So anyway, that’s me here and now. Thanks for checking in. :)