In The Morning
Tuesday. I tried one more Netflix movie last night starting at about nine-thirty, didn't have much hope it would be any better than any of the others, but you verge on desperate after experiencing so many failures, so I figured I'd give it a try.
Turned out to be one of the better movies I've seen in some time, a story of a young man moving from idiot to half rational human being using photography (of all things) as one driver of the transformation. From asleep at the wheel to consciousness, from blindness to seeing, life as seen through a camera. It had its ups and downs, but overall it was quite a picture.
Love Collage, a Japanese movie, low budget, set in Japan and New York City, experimental, young love lost, trips over itself occasionally, but many faceted and ambitious with lots of still photography.
Interesting, even to a non-photographer?
I'm just talking about moi, but the depiction of “seeing”, the path from darkness to light, involves more than photographs.
Which means I got to bed at midnight and got up a little slowly at seven-thirty this morning, but without complaining. Off to breakfast to feed the meter, read the papers and come back home to conduct an unsuccessful attempt to bring yesterday's entry into coherence. We'll leave it at that. Much would have to be done to bring my writing in out of the darkness.
Later. A drive over to park near the instructor's house and then to walk to the morning café for a grilled cheese sandwich, ice cream and coffee. Yes, we're still two pounds over our target weight, but we're stressed and don't care as we're heading out to our lesson.
My guitar teacher earned his fee by smiling all the way through my half hour, some of it not bad, some of it that could have been better. Well, most of it could have been better. I'd played along earlier this morning with the assigned Time Is On My Side before heading out, the ring finger somewhat raw from pressing the strings down across the frets, so we'll ramp up the pressing in the future to make the little callous pads along the side of the finger into even bigger callous pads similar to the palm of my right hand at the points I hold a camera.
A run by the supermarket to pick up cottage cheese, table grapes and sake. For some reason I decided to buy two of the single serving bottles of sake. Not sure why, but we'll probably go through them later when the Maigret is playing.
So, free of commitments until we take the train to Portland come Thursday, the newspaper delivery stopped, the mail arranged, the camera gear packed. Hup.
Evening. A Maigret I've seen before, remembered the opening scenes, but not remembering anything else until we reached the end. I did have that first bottle of sake, makes the sinuses more docile. At least I've always thought it does. Probably more conceit than fact, but conceit or not, we're feeling just fine at the moment.
We'll see what's coming up later, but maybe it's best to get to sleep early this evening and get up easily at the usual hour, get caught up on the little stuff, do the laundry in the morning.