Tell me what I want, what I really, really want!

What do I really want to do with the rest of my life? I had a pretty exciting one so far and it's time to settle down. Maybe. My kids have all grown and left the nest. And what's left behind? A ton of memories, photos, nick knacks with sentimental value and a million songs, maps and skewed distorted bits of this and that stored in my brain. Where do I want to go? What do I want to do? Well if I had lottery winnings, there wouldn't even be a second thought really. I'd be on the next boat to Italy. And if by chance I didn't find the right place there, Southern France. I've always liked old architecture. Building that are more then 300 years old shall I say. Some real history and ghosts to them. And I'd want some acreage. 200 plus if I can. I have always needed lots of wide open space. But if I didn't win the lottery, I think I'd eventually go back to Wyoming. I left my heart there, my home and possible most of my bunniness or wildness shall I say.

The first time I saw Wyoming when I was only 10 years old, I knew within minutes of stepping foot on the land that someday, I would live there. My friend at the time Julie Damiani who was there with me agreed and we made a pact to move there at 18 and be room mates. Unfortunately, Julie and I were split apart by unfortunate circumstances and she was moved to Texas. Ironically, when I changed schools, I became friends with another Jackie who lived close by and her Mother moved to a tiny town called Wright, Wy. Jackie went first and I followed a few months later driving her cherry red 76 Camaro that we named "the Lobster". It was an interesting trip for a single 18 year old in the Summer of 84. I thought I was alone, really I did. But, little did I know that I had been harboring a couple hundred tiny ants who suddenly decided to come out of the gear shift all at the same time. They just oozed up and just about had the interior and floorboard covered before I could even pull over in the middle of no-where Nebraska. Another traveler ( a young man ) had been following me all the way from KC and he pulled behind to see if I was okay as I jumped out of the car window and wiping the ants off of my tube top and jean shorts. I'm sure it was quite a site to see. Some crazy barefoot, half naked chick jumping around on the side of the highway with ants all over her and the "Lobster"! After he got finished laughing at me, I explained that the car had been sitting in a field for about 3 months and now I was responsible for taking illegal aliens across 3 boarders and just might need a lawyer. Can he help me get rid of the evidence? Well, we tried to scoop and sweep them up as well as possible and then we started looking for any gas station or car wash that would possibly have a vacuum cleaner. I don't think I ever found one. Keep in mind, this was 1984. One other odd thing happened to me on the way out there. While driving over 80 mph and my left foot hanging out the window, a big 'ol fat bumble bee decided to commit suicide ass end first into my chest. Now if that doesn't make you hit the brakes fast, I don't know what will? I pulled over and plucked the still living bee from my chest and the stinger remained. So I yelled at the bee for a second before I threw it out the window and then proceeded to yank the stinger out. Boy did that swell up big and red fast! Not something that I ever want to do again and I always avoided as much as possible on motorcycles.

I've lived in North Eastern Wyoming three times between 1984 and 1999. Each time I left unwillingly and the last time I left everything behind thinking I would be back in a month. My landlady threw out everything in my apartment the day after I left and there was nothing I could do about it being 1000 miles away in Vegas. Se la vie I suppose. That was not the 1st nor was it the last time I had to start over from scratch. It's a darn good thing I'm not a materialistic girl but, how many microwaves have I bought in my life and I hardly even use the dang things!

I seem to have gotten off track a bit. What made me fall in love with Wyoming? That's kind of like asking me why do I love Joni Mitchell. They are both parts of me. Being an adopted child and especially never fitting into my family made me feel very displaced my entire life. Always trying to find "Home" is the only way I can describe it and Wyoming is the only place I have truly found it. The people, wide open spaces, wildlife ~ especially the buffalo and antelope, the small town enviornments and general freedom that the whole state gave me puts me in the "Home" state of mind. The only other times that I have ever felt that was when I was in love.

What I want, what I really, really want... is to make a living photographing nature and wildlife in the state I love. Take me home country road or I-90.