Saturday. To sleep at a decent hour, up briefly maybe once (or was it twice?) before reality struck with the alarm, off to breakfast and filling the car with gas on the way back by eight. So good. Overcast, cool, who knows how the day will evolve, but a decent start to a weekend. Hup! (and all that)
An email from The House of Hunt theater company this morning when I got home. I guess I'm now on their mailing list as one of the troupe members gave me their business card when I was photographing the Folsom Street Fair last year and I forwarded them some photographs with a link to artandlife.
Without being able to hide behind the cameras, I'm sure I'd be too chicken to attend something like the Folsom Fair, more for no sense of what the rules are in interacting with people who seem to actually play these kinds of games, some of them for real. The idea of the thing (if I have any idea of the thing) messes with the head. How seriously, when they go home at night, do they play, for example, at what appear to be Ms. Hunt's theatrical message?
"I will be dressed in purple accompanied by my wizard, human ponies, human puppy, riding in the Twisted Carriage, with two camera crews flanking us and a dragon on my head." she says. Makes for interesting pictures, though. People evidently come from all over the world for this thing.
Just another chapter in the “Bringing Up Bobbie” book.
You soon enough learn some of the chapters may well put you in over your head, the first time they do something like tell you they're sending you to someplace like Vietnam comes to mind.
It's all show business, my boy. Naked people: some with whips and some in chains.
Later. Noon, now, the church bells in the distance striking on time for once instead of their usual ten minutes early. Back now from a walk over and along the lake, passing by a number of groups doing exercises, each group doing them (I'm assuming) just a bit differently than the others, although you assume the objective is the same.
Through the market not stopping, over across the street heading for Lakeshore, stopped by one of the vendors with whom I've talked in the past after taking his picture at his request last summer, surprising him with an 8x10 print the next weekend. He's been doing better over this last year from the look of it and he stopped me today and gave me one of his t-shirts. I went with the Lake Monster shirt. Not a bad walk.
Some thought to head on for ice cream at the ice cream shop but, when I entered, the shop was empty, I'm assuming the sales person was in the back. What the hell, did I really want ice cream? Walked on to again skirting the lake on the way back. Overcast, cool enough to be wearing a long sleeved shirt, although I could have easily survived without out it. Still a bit hungry, so we'll do something about it.
Later still. No interest in walking anywhere for ice cream, a somewhat different than the usual thought, so some pasta (DeCecco Orecchiette no. 91, an Italian enriched macaroni product it says on the label) with red clam sauce for lunch. I must admit to thoughts of doing things around the apartment, a certain welling up of energy in these last couple of hours. I've spent enough time reading whatever on the news sites, be interesting to see where this episode goes. Ends.
Evening. Nothing on television and so some guitar, just some, but more than I've been doing lately, we'll approach it slowly, warily, with care. Take it as it comes. To bed early, I think. Curl up with the tablet. Not sure I like that image: “curl up with a tablet”. They found him curled up with a tablet. Not much of an epitaph.