These boot were made for ...

Self Portrait, 2012. Photopolymer Relief. When I first entertained the idea of getting an M.F.A. with a concentration in printmaking and photography, I needed a portfolio. These were part of that effort.

My shoes show signs of wear — all of them — even my year-old Chuck Taylors. Maybe especially my Chuck Taylors, as I’ve worn them almost exclusively during my pandemic walkabouts since March 15. And every day since, I lace up, grab a camera, and try to get in a mile walk.

I document these journeys of reprieve on Instagram and my Facebook business page. Mostly the pictures are love letters to Pulaski, Virginian, where I seem to have settled. Other images are from the occasional trip to the allergist (after investing in weekly shots for a year, I just couldn’t give up on them), an adventure to a park to indulge in a physically distanced picnic with a friend (who bought one of Ken’s paintings), a few of hikes at state parks, a daring staycation, and now the occasional trips to Blacksburg, where I work when not from my remote house-based office. 

But I started this post out with a mention of my shoes. I wore most of mine down to around the heels before the COVID-19 Pandemic, while working on my M.F.A. from Radford University for the past five years. Running shoes, sandals, and ballet flats carried me from the printmaking studio to the darkroom in Porterfield Hall, through Santa Fe and the workshop I did with Making Art Safely, and Charlottesville, where I learned how to bind books. I wore these shoes when I did a tiny press demo at the Southern Graphic Council’s conference in Atlanta. And I have taken them off in the car as I worked on Road Diaries and Remains. My low heels adorned my feet through countless receptions and a few award ceremonies from Virginia to Germany. 

And now I sit in stocking feet, listening to the August rain. There is talk about martinis. 

This is the last weekend before what I hope will be my last fall semester at Radford. It seems like I need to document this last part of the journey. I’m still waiting or my thesis credits to register in the system, my thesis committee convened. I have written and submitted a thesis proposal, which I hope the Graduate College will approve. 

My love letters to Pulaski, they are my inspiration for my current thesis. I didn’t think my final project would be these mementos of sanity; I had all these grand designs from tracing my ancestors’ landscapes, following the Trail of Tears, to tarot cards, but they all commitments that mean traveling long distances. And I’m not there yet. I’m not sure when I will be. But my love letters, they are here and now. A simple, but elegant solution for one final M.F.A. project.

But that’s enough for now. I see my shoes under my desk, and the sun is coming out again.