Despite editing and re-writing and a long time watching the cursor blink, I can't get this right. So when you read this, I want you to take three things from it -- hope, fear and anticipation. Right now it's a jumbled mess of non-cohesion, so I'm just going to cheat and tell you: when you get to the end, those are the three things I'd like you to think about. Thanks. I'm making a change. It's time. I'm not someone who likes change, to be honest. Something about it is unsettling to me, like not having a place to call home. Change generally makes me uneasy, and I avoid it if possible. The result, and maybe I'm not alone here, is that changes I do make tend to be spaced farther apart. And when they happen, they're often significant and sudden. So that said, I've decided that it's time to make a change -- last week, I gave notice at my job. Oct. 12, 2005, will be my last day. The job I'm leaving, as a reporter and editor, is by no means a "bad" job. In fact, it's a situation in which I'm being given more responsibility and freedom to create a publication and direct coverage. So it's not a bad job, and in fact it is a good job, with good people in a good environment. But despite that, it's simply time for a change. For the last five years, almost the entire time I've lived in Washington, I've worked in energy journalism. I've covered electricity and natural gas companies, issues and markets -- important things, but also subjects I'm not exactly passionate about. Earnings statements are not high excitement, and regulatory filings all pretty much look alike. So I've decided it's time for a change. I've stayed in the field for five years, between two mergers and three companies, not because I cared deeply for the subject but because the situation was just so easy to be in. It's difficult to make a change when everything is good. The job I'm leaving helped make everything good, and so it's a tough decision to make. But at the same time, I want very much to care about my work -- I want my days filled with things that define me. And so I'm leaving my job, making a sudden change. I have a couple of projects I want to work on, including a documentary photo project in the Mount Pleasant neighborhood of Washington, D.C. More on this later. Leaving feels strange. Maybe because it's just not what you're "supposed" to do. Maybe because there's safety in numbers, and I don't want to feel alone. I worry about money. A smarter me, perhaps, would have made a different change. Looked for work in photography, or art, or continued to work the same job while I also developed these projects. But for whatever reason, maybe just laziness with myself, I find myself unable to do this. I'm bad at change, you see. A body in motion stays in motion; a body content at an editing job tends to stay that way also. I find myself too rooted in one place to make a small change, oddly. The only answer seems to be bigger, sudden and scarier change. So I gave my notice. I have some savings and the hope that my photography will bring in income. I play poker, sometimes well enough to win. And that's what will get my by for a while. This is not a sustainable plan, as is. But life in general is not sustainable, either. And at 29 years old I'm faced with an opportunity I created for myself. It can't last forever, not in the current formless-form, but I've decided to step away from what I've been doing and follow the things which make me think and ramble and care. So the short version is this: I'm leaving my job to spend between six months and a year doing documentary photography in my neighborhood. I want to show the changes occurring in the place where I live. But it's more than that it is a new direction, and it simply feels right. I can't seem to get that across, not in the words I'm using here anyway. I needed to make a change, and I am going to. Smarter people could devise smarter ways, for sure. But at the least, I believe I'm making my change for the right reason. I want to care about my work; the daytime, weekday hours should not be a void of emotion. So I'm going to jump and try and change and see. Wish me luck. Hope, fear and anticipation.