A reflection of my time spent in New York as a kid, my latest visit to New York City, and losing yourself in the possibilities. 

Earlier this week, during the 30-minute news segment break—interruption—from the Olympics, WCNC announced Billy Graham had passed. As ignorant as it sounds coming from a Charlottean for the past 7 years, I had no idea who Billy Graham was or what he did, nor had I ever entertained the possibility he may have still been alive.

There’s no second chance at life. The same can be said about growing up. Growing up is hard. You may grow at various points in this lifetime, but you will never go through childhood and adolescence more than once. I wrote an article titled ‘Bringing it Home’ almost two years ago on the Huffington Post about how I came across my middle school yearbook one evening while visiting my parent’s house and came to the conclusion that my generation’s time to lead society to making a difference is now. It always has been, but now more than ever.

2017. What a strange year. I don’t know why and I can’t find ways to explain it to you, but it was. Reflecting on this past year, I find myself at a loss because I can’t find much to reflect on. I let photography slip away from me these last 12 months. The whole year was uninspiring in general. I never got to the majority of the things I set out to do. Let alone strive for my goals, I didn’t do much of anything to begin with. When the days seemed long, the time went by quick. Even at my highest productivity levels, no progress seemed to be made. It’s been a year that at first thought is easily forgettable, but when challenged to dig deeper, will be a year I’ll find to be worthwhile of longing for.

The power of nostalgia.