Tuesday. The day starts well. Too large a breakfast to be sensible, but then I haven't been hungry and eating much beyond breakfast over these last several weeks, so what the hell? Still, feeling good, better in some ways than in the recent past and the recent past has been encouraging. A run to the store for cat food, Ms. Emmy will be pleased, home now with the day ahead. B&H hasn't shipped my camera yet, but I have cameras scattered about on the rug and I'm up for getting out and shooting some pictures. Storing your cameras on the rug precludes them falling onto the rug and breaking their little lenses. Good advice given by the clerk at a camera repair shop long ago when there still were such things as camera repair shops. Or have I said something somewhat similar recently? I have? Well, it's true. Enthusiasms are good, given the way days can go on and on without them.
Later. A bus ride downtown and then a walk around and about leading to Jack London Square, where I drank coffee at Starbucks out on their patio overlooking the square, which was pretty much empty at ten in the morning on a Tuesday in November. Except for old Jack himself, of course, the clever little rascal, who's always there and always in the same place, for some reason, which has led to him being photographed about a berzillion times by visitors. You may not find “berzillion” in the dictionary, but believe me, it's a very large number.
Oh, and walking there, I did bump into a subject that called out to be photographed so I took its picture. I don't know, just to look at it in PhotoShop, see what it had to say, file it, maybe, in my subconscious for later use when its purpose becomes clear. As good as any reason to carry a camera, I'm thinking, if it gets you up and out the door in the morning.
Aren't we making a bit much of this? You point a camera, you shoot a picture, billions of them are taken every year. Get over it, whatever it is, OK? Buster?
Maybe that's why these things are best wrestled with internally, creatures of the Id, nothing to gain my mentioning them here. Picture this, picture that. Wrong impression of what it's all about. But we learn, we learn.
Later still. The day goes quickly, once breakfast is done, once the walk is finished, once I've had my early afternoon nap. The News Hour on in the background talking about Fort Hood, as all of them have been talking about Fort Hood; the Pakistanis have suffered another few dozen or so folks, women and children, killed by a bomb in a market; the Afghans have promised to fly right and act straight: no more selling drugs, ripping off the NGO's and shaking down their citizens. The usual stuff on a cloudy afternoon in Oakland.