Assuming I Survive
Friday. To bed early last night feeling reasonably good. I pretty much just shut down, played a little guitar and listened to television, talking heads not really requiring a lot of visual attention. Except for the Korean soap, of course, needing to read the subtitles. I won't try to rationalize this, watching this particular or any of the other “soaps”, there really isn't any way to do it straight faced. Still, to sleep, up with the alarm, to breakfast and back on this overcast morning.
So we'll see. More work on the photographs, I'll post what I have today. I've been making progress, even with the ocular episodes and such. Not going to let any crazy little critters screeching in the walls and tripping me up on the sidewalks get in the way of progress. We are, after all, semi-skilled amateurs here: reins in the teeth, spurs at the ready, only taking time off in the evenings to watch incredibly saccharine subtitled television. And talking heads discussing nonsense.
Later. The rest of the morning was spent finishing up the photographs and preparing them for artandlife. I'm less happy with some I originally thought were OK, but so what? Will they change, will they get better? Well, yes, they will, but only for those I take in the future, I'm stuck now with what I've got. Thus and so it does indeed go, here in the house of the scattered.
The sun is out now at noon, bright, plenty of contrast to ruin a perfectly good picture. Unless my Photoshop routine isn't quite right or I'm shooting them wrong, altogether missing what's needed. Ah well. So far the head is screwed on reasonably tight. I'm thinking of lying down for a bit and then heading downtown to take another crack at the encampment. No more of the ocular migraine stuff, please. Once a month is enough to dislike, two would be, well, nothing I want to think about.
Later still. A walk over to the new bank's ATM to deposit a check in the amount of $17.15, the balance remaining in the Wells Fargo account, after the last outstanding Wells check finally cleared. So that's it. Monday, when the check hits the account, I'll say goodbye to the too big to fail. Good. One small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind. Is that grandiose enough? I would hope.
One or two photographs as I was walking to the ATM. But one lone female Black-Crested Night Heron, holding the fort at the usual place, back to the lake, blending into the grass. So naturally I took her photograph. Another “hey, take my picture!” walking back. I haven't had one in a while. I ran a print when I got home since he asked and I'll give it to him if he's still there tomorrow. I might mention it's a bit dicey taking a portrait with a 270mm lens.
I then walked down to the bus stop later, thinking I'd go downtown and photograph Occupy Wall Street again, but I checked the smartphone bus app when I arrived and saw it was running ten to fifteen minutes late. What the hell, I can go later. Maybe I will and maybe I won't. Doesn't matter.
I did finally finish the Occupy Wall Street photographs, over a hundred, and put them up on artandlife. I'm ambivalent about many, not sure I should have used more than one or two of the group I took on the 20th (ocular migraine day), but what the hell? Life is short, art is long, we'll start again later today or tomorrow.
Evening arrives. No interest in heading downtown to photograph the Occupy Wall Street encampment so I think we'll take it easy and slide into the evening, maybe try this going to bed early one more time.
I played a little guitar, then restrung the guitar, then played it again without hearing much difference. Not sure how long ago I did it the last time, but it's probably short of a month. Once a month seems fine, one every two weeks too often. I'm getting better at it as you do when you do something often enough, but quite honestly I suspect I'll eventually become a little too comfortable with putting it off. I'll trade out the batteries tomorrow after giving the spare set an charge overnight.
We had two short and fairly violent earthquakes yesterday, one in the afternoon and one in the early evening. Violent in the sense it felt as if someone had banged the building with a very big club. Very short, but sharp. They say they were centered in Berkeley just a few miles north, a 4.0 and a 3.8, something to remind us of what's coming one of these decades. I hope it's decades, I don't want to try photographing the ruins when I'm seventy-five. Assuming I survive.