As They Come Up
Saturday. Last night was interesting in that I drifted into an ocular migraine around seven in the evening, seven-thirty, not really noticing it was happening until I was let us say “disassociated” enough to not be sure where I was, what reality I was in or how exactly to make enough of a connection to the real world to get back and settle down. I finally figured it out, went to bed, got up then at eleven to turn everything off, went back to bed and got an overall good night's sleep. Odd experience, though. I hope to never have one out in a crowd, although I suspect I will handle it by finding a place to sit and set it out.
And thinking about it, now that I've had a number of these things over the course of what is now longer than a year, so what? Yes, they're interesting and somewhat intense when they arrive, but they don't last long, an hour or so at the most; they have a certain disconcerting aspect, but they're identifiable when they come and what the hell? A dozen in one year? One a month, most of them now easy going baby versions that don't amount to much? Even the big time adults (like last night's) don't make much of a mark for their short hour or so of attendance. So let's just go see the neurologist a few more times, see if there's something that can be done and, if not, blow it off to age and experience. (and yes: hup! hup!)
Anyway, up this morning just before the alarm was set to go off, to and from breakfast now before eight. I'll check out the Carnaval festival over on Harrison between 16th and 23rd in San Francisco this afternoon, the first time I've gone to photograph the festival in addition to tomorrow's forming up of the parade. Which is nice, the sky seems reasonably clear and the weather looks good.
Have no idea what it was that brought on the ocular thing. I'd had a small amount of sake at noon, they say to avoid alcohol, particular red wine, and I'd had some cereal and milk, something I've wondered about in the past - they don't warn you about cereal - so who knows? We'll not worry (too much). We're in new territory here, might as well, as said, slog on.
Later. I did set out for the Carnaval festival in San Francisco, packed the one camera with a long lens in the backpack, slung the second camera over the shoulder, headed for the bus. And it started to rain. Sprinkle would be more accurate, but the clouds didn't look good from where they were coming from to the west. But I got on the bus.
And picked up that Niaspan I'd mentioned at the pharmacy, the stuff they reported after testing doesn't work (for seventy-five bucks) and returned home, dropped off the backpack and walked to my morning restaurant for lunch. I'd picked up a copy of the New York Times while I was downtown, so I took my time reading the paper out on the patio over a BLT and walked back home. So much for the Carnaval festival, we'll catch the parade tomorrow. I could head over there now at three, but, but.... Tomorrow's enough.
Late in the morning, before my aborted attempt to shoot the Carnaval festival, I restrung the guitar. It's been a month and, after letting it go for so long, I'd decided I was going to restring it every month. Went more easily this time, knew what to expect. Sounds a little better. Even if it doesn't it does just by having done it, the mind ready to hear it whether or not it's there. But what am I saying? Given the amount of time I've been playing a month probably isn't often enough. We'll leave it at that.
You rock stars are all a little flaky.
It's all the attention we get, the “yes” people all crowded in and around, the money, the sex. Erodes the manners if not the soul.
Later still. Some guitar and then, for some reason, the urge to create a graffiti page for artandlife. I've got many months of photographs to go through to find all of them, these are OK, but I'm thinking if I looked harder I could do better. Then again, it's my site, let's take it easy and put them up as they come up.