My shadow pulls away from me, distorting in the late afternoon sun. It is stretched cobweb thin, betraying the worry that is breeding beneath my skin. I crave an outcome, a resolution, an ending that will either prop open the door or slam it shut with a deafening crack. This edge is too sharp to stand on, too demeaning to build a life on.Where I Stand Sunday is an ongoing photo essay examining the different places I spend my life standing. Too often we take for granted the everyday places we spend our lives walking on. The ground we tread on has its own stories to tell.
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