The holidays present the rare but welcomed opportunity to see my big sister Shannon. As the years have gone by, I've seen less and less of her. After flourishing as an undergraduate writer, she ventured to California to complete her Master's degree in creative writing. Sadly, I never took advantage of her temporary presence out West. She recently moved back to Ohio, but I have, of course, since been displaced in Chicago. It seems that our geography hasn't matched up since I was in high school. I suppose I could take this opportunity to become extremely sentimental. My sister has been my best friend my entire life; no doubt this will never change, despite the miles between us or the milestones paving our separate and succinct paths. This blog entry is sounding a little mushy and trite. I cannot muster the perfect string of words to adequately describe my love, admiration, and gratitude for my sister (she is much more equipped). And, I cannot believe that it has taken me so long to take her picture. But then again, the past few years have plagued me with a selfish sort of tunnel vision, and maybe I am still suffering from this crippling blindness. (Refer to the portraits of my parents that are only just now surfacing, after I've been fairly diligent about photographing what's near and dear to me for the past four years.) Christmas at home this year was one of the most humbling holidays I've shared with my family. Despite the rapid whirl (and, at times, what feels like the stagnant slump) of my young adult life, they have my heart.
