“What do I have to bring?”
“Everything.”
“I mean, I’m thinking of some wine.”
“Your camera. Your rope as well.”
“Oh…”
I was invited to a party with a small collective of rope players, tattoo artists, models, and photographers—all fans of good food and drinks. I feel awkward in small gatherings—an anxiety that assimilates the energy of the people around me. Normally, I wouldn’t attend, yet I was compelled to step out of my comfort zone.
The rope artists were tying up their rope bottoms. They were skilled, experienced. Through their rope, they were deeply connected with their partners. The attachment was so well intertwined that it intimidated me from trying myself. I had my rope, but not their skill—there was no way I could forge a link as intense as theirs. I need practice.
For now, I simply sat and watched, capturing the emotions that emanated from the moment while longing for such connections.