Saturday. Interesting. The head is funky, but the attitude is good. A bus ride downtown to buy a watch battery (they last about six months), have an ice cream cone in the Chinese Cultural Center and lunch at the crepe place in the City Center. I browsed the Asian DVD movies in one or two stores, but didn't recognize any of the titles. I was wondering if they had an English subtitled version of one of the Asian soaps I've been watching on television over the last couple of years. They're not soaps, really. Fantasy Kung Fu historical epics without English subtitles, maybe, best viewed by someone who doesn't understand the culture or the language because I suspect their American equivalent would be, well, soaps targeted to teens in a sexually uptight universe where a kiss is the equivalent of a 24/7 room service weekend at Hot Tub Heaven. I had no desire, really, to track one of them down, but it got me out of the apartment today, funky head or no; not a bad outing.
Sunday. The thought occurs I should go into the office today to make my work life smoother tomorrow morning, but then, contemplating the wider universe, I realize I should do something more in a “get a life” personal vein, so I've been running prints holed up in the apartment on the new Epson photo printer. I downloaded a PhotoShop plug in that allows you to modify a digital color image to look as if it had been taken on a specific brand of film: Kodak Tri-X, for example, is one of the black and white choices and a number of brands of color film such as Fuji Velvia and Kodak Ektachrome are available. Interesting results. I've converted a number of color images to black and white to see if this new printer's three shades of black through grey cartridge setup is really all they say it is. They are nice, I must admit, and I'm enjoying a weekend of printing. Better to be outside (he said) shooting the occasional photograph to see if walking and air wouldn't improve my laid back disposition.
Should do this, shouldn't do that. Are you really trapped in that silly self-defeating babble?
People say I'm trapped. Sometimes I myself say that I'm trapped, but am I, really? Sitting here with Ms. Emmy on my lap, contemplating the sunshine illuminated rust red wall of the back of the building across the way? Here in Oakland?
You've probably done enough “here in Oakland” for the month.
I brought it up at the office to show to a friend last week and discovered in changing the image two weeks back I'd messed it up and lost the picture. How rude.