Sunday. They said rain today and it is raining, up this morning at seven without an alarm after getting to bed last night after eleven, watching an interminable director's cut of a John Woo movie on DVD. At least I watched the whole thing, something I find I'm less able to do anymore. That question alone - not watching movies all the way through, finding any that appeal to me in the first place- is good for at least a week's navel gazing done over time in five minute increments. But not now, not at the moment.
Anyway, back from breakfast, a good breakfast, rain outside, the month coming to a close. A day to play with the lights? I still have a head shooting session coming up in another week, want to be ready, want to get the exposures right (hup! hup!).
You keep saying “a day to play with the lights” and yet we have yet to see any action on your part.
I tried them out when I got them. They seem to work.
That's not the problem. They worked before you got the little PocketWizard radios. You still need to learn how to position them and dial in the proper settings. You said you found a good understandable explanation of the process on an online photo blog recently and you were going to use it to learn at least the basics.
I said the same thing about the Photoshop class and I have indeed gone through the instructional handout and played with the included examples.
That's not how it works. Beginnings need an end to be done.
Isn't there some body of knowledge, some set of studies that analyzes people who talk to themselves the way we're talking right now? A certain loss of social functionality setting in? Talking to a wall? Describing to any and all the sounds of the rats as they scramble in the attic, the fire hydrants that call out when you walk past in the late afternoons, camera in hand: “shoot a root toot!”? A bad sign at black rock?
Later. A brief splash of sun, a walk outside thinking where might I go - take a bus, take a walk, get something to eat? - all of them hopeless, yet the need to do something outside alive and well; the call of someplace special, even momentarily special, even slightly special, nowhere in evidence. And then the clouds came back and I headed back to the apartment.
I have the heat on, the place is comfortable, yet the need if not the desire to putter around the rest of the day here all content and absorbed isn't in evidence. Some guitar now? Strum a few notes? Where's a nice nap when you need one?
There's the Tet celebration over in San Francisco on the calendar.
Boy-howdy do I not feel like taking a train to San Francisco. I'm not in a space between a rock and a hard place, but a mattress and a pillow. Speed without the adrenaline. Words without wonder. Sizzle on the fizzle.
It's afternoon on a Sunday. It's raining out.
Later still. A drive downtown thinking, if I passed an open parking space I'd look in on the second day of the Lunar New Year Bazaar again, rain aside, but not seeing one I drove on and parked near Beverages & More, walking then through the farmer's market, the rain in check, a bit of sun. Not many people there, the day started looking as if we had an all day rain after all, and I ended up without any photographs, but still, I had an ice cream cone at Ben & Jerry's, bought cheese, crackers and a small two serving bottle of sake at BevMo for later and returned to the apartment, the rain beginning again literally as I drove into the garage. And so I sit, tired from the outing, most probably, not from whatever sleep I had last night and thinking maybe a nap. Hup. Hup.
Later still again. Tired from the walk? OK. Shows what I know. I lay down for a nap, took about a half an hour to doze off, awakened in the evening close to eight, a good five hours. There was also the vague memory of a groggy ocular migraine occurring in there somewhere when I was under, can't be sure if it was a lightweight one done in passing or something stronger. So I needed sleep, obviously, and something else. There is indeed something else.