In Thomas Harris' foreword to Red Dragon he writes of a lone shotgun house in the middle of a cotton field in Rich, Mississippi. There is a pack of feral dogs he adopts to accompany him on walks at night.
On one hand I am insanely attracted to a space with the most minimal distraction where the mind travels down roads without a map. On the other hand I fear where those roads may lead. What I think is I have been coming here my whole life and not even fear could stop me now. Right or wrong, good or bad, there is no turning back.
Once I am past the fear all I can feel is gratitude.
You and me, we'll see what happens.
Dude! Didn't this space contain photographs at one time? I gotta get on that.