Nothing much happening today
Nothing much to say
Nothing much to do but play
With lines and shapes
To make them look a certain way
On Saturday we went to the re-lighting of the restored Luna Cafe sign. That turned out to be the most productive thing I did all weekend in terms of photography. On Friday I set up the gray background with the intention of taking some photos indoors but I only got around to playing with the strobes for a while. I’m not sure I was in the proper mood for creating anything though I did carve a pumpkin on Sunday. On Monday I got a nice email telling me my website was not optimized for sales. Guess what, I’m not selling anything. I don’t care.
1) Photography 2) Road Trips 3) Pizza 4) Bonfires 5) Parties 6) Friends 7) Pie 8) Sleep-overs 9) Shopping 10) Sleeping late.
I love getting up and walking to breakfast somewhere in the neighborhood and there are lots of good places to choose from. I also like going to the antique store and looking at all the new things that come in. I ended up buying something today, which is unusual for me because it’s usually enough of a treat just to browse. I’m always looking for little props to use in photo-shoots that no one is interested in doing. I want to buy a globe but I’m pretty sure there is no space for it at home.
I thought I would be smart and preorder my iPhone. That worked great and it arrived before noon on Friday. I spent the next five hours trying to activate it. Debbie was up before dawn and at the AT&T store picking hers up and doing interviews on the morning news with a grand-baby in arms. She had hers updated and humming away before mine arrived. All’s well that ends well so after I had mine activated it was all great.
We spent the day today rounding up things for the Egyptian Mummy shoot. Gauze, feathers, background paper, straw and too many other things to mention.
We took some time out from errands to take photos of Henry at the pumpkin patch but he was not feeling like posing today. I got to try out the iPhone camera a little more and that was about it. Hopefully his Daddy got some good shots.
There was a lot to see and do at the pumpkin farm. Maybe too much…
Another fine blue sky October day. I’m glad I got outside to see it. I only wish I had a little more energy to enjoy it with.
I toss and turn as I adjust to an ever changing series of aches and pains. Up early and late to bed, the clock becomes my enemy. I’m old so the clocks that inhabit my dreams are large analog machines made of heavy, rusting steel gears. A giant clock rolls over my immobile body and consumes me. In less than five hours I must get up and begin again… If I am able, which seems doubtful at this point.
It’s too soon before I’m awake (?) again and on my way to work. Isabella makes machine noises in her own peculiar single-cylinder accent that act as a counterpoint to the menacing inner workings of my bad clock dream. On the road ahead a man and woman crossing in the middle of the block begin to run as they hear us approaching. We are not moving all that fast but Isabella is a loud and animated Italian girl who demands attention.
Three motorcycles converge on the parking garage at the same time. One bike is a fast and shiny racer replica… Isabella snorts in distain. The other bike belongs to Doug. It’s a low slung V-twin Honda that looks a little like a 3/4 scale police cruiser. Doug is under the mistaken impression that his school crossing guard fluorescent colored safety vest will keep him safer than my armored jacket. I argue that people will be so distracted by their own uncontrolled laughter that he will be run over because of his high visibility costume rather than in spite of it.
Doug sets down his helmet and shouts, “That’s the loudest BMW I’ve ever heard.”
Isabella likes the attention because she is getting older and because she is quite vain.
Leaving a half-hour earlier in the morning avoids riding into the blinding sunrise. Nobody seems to notice (so far) that I have taken it upon myself to change my schedule without prior approval. Training days seem to have a different set of rules or at least an implied difference that boils down to it being in the company’s best interest to loosen its death grip on our bodies, minds and souls to free people to concentrate without worrying so much about the clock or quotas.
The work clock is a component running one level below my clock of days. It eats valuable time but provides resources I need to keep moving forward. As the giant clock of days spins dangerously faster I must run to keep up with it. Sometimes I am forced to let go of things I value just to find time to sleep. More often I am forced to give up the sleep as well causing me to exist in a fuzzy land between fatigue and bone weary exhaustion.
The week blurs past and Friday arrives. Somehow the clock of days and the clock of hours and minutes have become disconnected from each other. There do not seem to be enough total hours in each day to do everything that needs (or wants) to be accomplished but the more disturbing phenomenon is the unverifiable belief that some hours are stretched the limit of human endurance while others are compressed to total uselessness.
I wonder for a moment if anyone else in the room is currently contemplating the nature of time and existence… I think not.
I begin to turn my attention towards the weekend…