When I first got back to the city, I was here but I wasn’t present. I didn’t venture out much. I kept myself occupied by working on the home, creating from old photography work in places from my travels to Chicago, France, Croatia, Japan, etc. For a time, I lacked the drive to go out and capture new photos. This wasn’t because I thought Memphis wasn’t photogenic. Indeed, I had taken thousands upon thousands of photos in the area when I was younger. To boot, my spouse often described a Memphis that I didn’t recognize, their experience clashing with mine. It still existed. There was still that arm’s length between Memphis and I that was built all those years ago. Five months elapsed before motivation came around, and I finally decided to venture off into the city and try to capture photos. The unexpected happened: I got lost.