I have always glamorized the idea of running away. Not in the sense that I myself would ever be so much of a rebel (or that I have ever wanted to), but I've devoured stories like Peter Pan, Thirteen Little Blue Envelopes, and any of those series in which parents were basically absent for the entirety of the book. I liked that kind of adventure, and I still glorify travel and moving out. Newness in general, because one has to draw on the old to achieve change. I am not so naive that I believe in a sudden character shift overnight, but something has to spark it. You have to take risks, leave your comfort zone. Speaking of the past, the top right photograph of the Louvre was taken by my dad on my parents' trip to Europe in the 80s, and I printed it a few days ago in my school darkroom from the negative. There's something sort of symbolic about that I'm really loving. Although I'm not totally sure how my family feels about me using it in a collage about escape?