Make It Happen
Thursday. Made preparations to add photographs to the Cherry Blossom Festival Parade section of artandlife yesterday noticing that, well, there weren't many that gave the impression these people were in a parade and (my, my) they all seemed to be portraits of younger women. Well, there are an awful lot of younger women at the forming up of this particular parade and I never apologize for photographing them, but they all looked just similar enough to me to be, well, boring.
It doesn't matter if other people find them boring, it matters if I feel they're boring. Your bent is your bent and one of the reasons you know you've found it is your work gets you up and going in the morning. Of course saying they're not right just means I need to change them. Look at subjects from other angles. Add (horror!) more people to the framing. Look for tragedy. Look for humor. Look for someway to end this brain dead digression.
As in best not to start an entry by shooting yourself in the foot?
Something like that.
Another impossibly good day, by the way, just in case you happened to be living somewhere out there in the rain and the snow. We hear stories of rain and snow from time to time, some of us have distant memories from prior lives, but we've learned to pay no attention. Fear not, however. The impossible smugness of my remark is due to evaporate with the coming earthquake (they say the really bad fault under the San Francisco Bay that causes the really big ones goes off like clockwork every 140 years and is due any day now as it's been exactly 140 years since we had the last one) and global warming is rapidly eliminating the snow pack we rely on for drinking water. So understand there's a certain irony in my remark and there will come a time, hopefully long after I'm gone, when we receive what everyone agrees to be our just desserts.
The attitude is pretty good otherwise, by the way. I'm finding things that begin to engage my interest again. Mostly the same old things, but they are “things” and they are engaging my interest. I blame these last months of rattling about on retirement. Nothing wrong with retiring, but I suspect it takes a certain amount of time to turn it over in the subconscious before the mind re-engages and a new life's chapter is born. Or are we projecting? Hoping? Telling ourselves happy little stories? Given the alternative I'm going with new chapters with better pictures and I've got the fantasy chops to fall back on, if necessary, to make it happen.