introspection-section

 Hitting hard

In all the ways.

Visually,

lyrically, how it is sung and the words

compositionally and the arrangement

--

How to phrase it without saying it all. Maybe I don't need to, maybe I shouldn't and leave it here as this. Pivot to an odd connection and realization.

The idea of what I take photos of when not 'assigned' or 'working.' The walking around. Photos of birds, photos of the water, sunsets, fog, structures, buildings, spaces and shapes. If people factor in, they are almost always solitary. Faced with crowds and crowds I find no compulsion to take a photo, no inspiration.

Also started listening to the new George Saunders book after Ken F's mention of it. AND THAT has brought me back to high school again, with a teach who was all about Russian Lit. He gave me a few books, and I devoured them. Found I just couldn't read enough Russian stories, and here is george going through some short stories in a way that's new. But also as a college grad level professor I'm hearing it all differently than most I think, esp differently than student age readers.

Makes me want to go back and re-approach all that that I read then.

Dark dramatic black and white photographs, maybe with one person, like the solo fisherman from the first roll of P30...  kind of falls into that bucket. Contrast, description, not bright happy flowerly colorful bullshit. Go figure. Shocking.

Started off with all the intention of being more expansive on the notion and reflection from the video, but brining up ancient heartbreak, and all that seems kind of pointless now hours later after I started, walked away and came back to it.

A bit overwhelmed at the moment but also too tired to care. Weird state.

"I can handle

Way more than I can handle 

So I keep reaching for the handle ..."

and here I am, buried by handling way more than I can handle while still reaching for more (scanning negatives to edit while I still have so many more photos from the weekend to edit)

I'd do it at home but lets see, I get home, sit for 20 minutes maybe more if I'm really cracked, then start cooking dinner, after washing the dishes, wind up finishing eating and sorting it all out at 8 or so, then maybe I have an hour plus a little if I want to work and start again. 

Time is precious, never enough of it. The clock is running out too. Each second is an experience we'll never have again. We are standing in a river of time constantly changed by it and can never go back to where we were once before. So we much hold on, persevere, find little bits of joy, and ultimately carve time out from somewhere to stay sane.

So maybe I'll be doing that now. Soon at least. I'll get on the bike, maybe the sky will be colorful on the way home, maybe not.

And dinner to make, what? I don't quite know. We'll see when I get there.

Amor Fati Motherfuckers

Heddwch
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