Welcome to August. I began writing a blog post last night, but I am going to wait to finish it. It wasn't topical, not time sensitive, and I want to use a photo that I don't have yet with it. The one I was going to use is too specific and literal. Just letting you know that I do think sometimes. On the rare occasion.
I am late to the party today. I didn't get out of bed until after eight. I slept well until four-thirty when some industrial grinding sound woke me up. I think. It might have been part of a dream. I believe that I was awake, though, lying in bed trying to figure out what was going on. Then the sound went away. I got up and drank some water and went to the bathroom and went back to bed. And thought. Dreamed. Think/dreaming. I'd think about something and then come to to another dream wondering how I got there. Then I'd think and wake. . . . At six, I thought to get up and get the day started, but that is when I fell back to sleep. Had a hell of a time finally getting up.
In my thinking dreams, I re-imagined my old Polaroid process and wondered why I hadn't tried to apply it to other films. I knew why, but something occurred to me there in the dark that I mulled over in my half-consciousness. I couldn't be sure I was making sense, but I was anxious to try it. Fortunately and impossibly, I remember it all. How often does that happen? I think it might be interesting, but odds are very poor that it will yield a good result. The exciting part is that I was thinking/dreaming of it and remember the whole thing. So, not a bad restlessness in the end.
Maybe.
I made Carbonara last night. It is only the second time in my life. I don't remember the first time, but I'm pretty sure there was one. I stopped at Fresh Market and bought some slices of freshly sliced bacon, fried them up outside on the grill burner, and crumbled them. I sautéed garlic in the grease and dumped the cooked spaghetti in with two whipped eggs. I topped it all with shavings from a block of cheese. It was pretty darn good, I'd say, but next time I will add red pepper flakes and use an arugula topping. It won't be long. But that was my Friday night party. Dinner for one.
I'm sick of it.
I did something yesterday that I have never done before. I sold a camera for a profit. I have made a life of looking for camera bargains and getting them reasonably. All my cameras and lenses were bought used. And now, I have so many I can't begin to use them all. I've been trying during this Time of Covid, but it truly is impossible. And I want a new camera. Now that I don't have an income, though, I find myself becoming prudish about spending money. I had a stern conversation with myself and said that I would have to sell something before I could buy something. So I put my Hasselblad Xpan up for sale. Yesterday, I got a good offer and took it. Yesterday afternoon, I picked up my last roll of film that I shot with it at the photo store and got a twinge. Why did I sell it? It is such a rare and unique camera. As I pack it up to ship it, I have my regrets. I'm not even sure if I want the other camera now. I always have buyers remorse, but this is my first experience at seller's remorse.
Still, I made a lot of money. I wish I were more interested in making money. I've never been. I'm more interested in what I can do with it than how to get it. But I am becoming economically conservative. I am getting ready to cancel my cable service. It is expensive and I never watch commercial t.v. except for the news. Otherwise, everything is on Amazon, Netflix, or YouTube. I am not willing to pay for the other stuff any more.
And still. . . I hesitate.
Today is bright and beautiful. It is the day before the storm. We will begin feeling the effects of the hurricane tomorrow and that will last through Monday. It is hard to enjoy something so beautiful when you know the disaster behind it, but that, I believe, has been the story of my life. I've always found beautiful disasters to be irresistible. That is love, however, and this is weather. I have PTSD after suffering through Hurricane Charlie who brought so much disaster to my home and checkbook. When the skies turn dark and the wind picks up, I experience a primal, hard to dispel terror. The next few days--nay--the next few months, will be very, very rough.
It is late and the day is underway out there. I can feel it. I need to pack up my camera and send it on its way to the lucky lad who purchased it. And then, I need to take my Leica and saunter while the light is good. I am documenting the mundane and the ordinary.
I mean, someone has to do it.
This himicane will do no harm. Oh, the news will try and make you think so.
ReplyDeleteIt is one of them there marauding foreigner storms from South of the Border that has all of the Anglo newscasters doing shit Spanish accents and tripping over their uvulas trying to give is an authentic pronunciation. EEE SSSAY EYE AHH SSSSSSSSSSS! You ever hear a hillbilly try to say he comes from the hills in Spanish with a trilled Castilian “r.” Yeah, you know what I’m talkin’ about.
You’ll be told Isaias will bring diseases, and murder us in our sleep, and rape out women. More n like it will drop some water and muss the leaves up a touch, then head straight up the coast to New York where it’ll just try to set up a corner bodega.
c.c. I wish I could see you in your upcoming production. Break a leg. :*
ReplyDeleteWell.
I've had quite an adventure of an evening. I had to say good bye to two people I am utterly in love with - Lisa & Mitch. They are heading back to the Tri-state area at the crack of dawn. :(
But it was a truly enriching for the soul visit. I will miss them. I've known Lisa since 8th grade.
I'm supposed to be doing a housesitting gig - including minding a tiny dog. Kinda fun idea...I packed a little overnight bag - blah blah blah.
I stayed longer than I expected with L & M - but got in my car to head to the gig - hot summer night, Cape Cod. Music playing in the car (Van Morrison) - windows down - a sky that beckons for camping under it - or sleeping on a boat - with the water lunar lit and its gentle sloshings. When I first came to Cape Cod I spent many a night on an old wooden motorboat. An Owens.
I was thinking about all sorts of things. I, too, from time to time - exercise that muscle.
Anyway. The text from the homeowner said "key under the blue mat at the door you always use."
Nopey.
They forgot to leave me a key. The poor baby dog was howling. It's pitch black. I'm texting and calling them - to no avail. So first I tried to see if I could get in a window -using my phone flashlight. nuh uh. I probably could with something to stand on - but it is now 11PM.
So! I'm going to be a criminal! Credit card!
I'm not such a good B & E-er. Apparently.
Plus I was upsetting the dog and worried the neighbors were surely going to call the po-po.
Sigh. Poor Apollo. I will go over in the morning and see if I can get through a window. Or maybe they have a key hidden somewhere.
So. Here I am. Unable to utilize my overnight bag and the accessories I packed for my weekend.
Oh. Let's talk about your carbonara.
Nice job. Definitely add those ingredients. Actually, I find it difficult to understand why hot pepper flakes did not get included first go?
But really, sounds scrump. I haven't had that in eons. I wish I had some bacon. I'm out or I'd cook some right now.
When you are a Trader - sometimes it goes the other way - I've sold so many things in my life. Sometimes that is how I paid for college stuff for the kids when things were tight. Monthly tuition bills, rent etc.
I'd pick a painting off the wall or some other item of interest - and either sell it to someone whom I knew would love it - or sold it at auction or flea market, etc.
I can hardly remember any of the things - none of it mattered in the end. I enjoyed them for a while - was the caretaker and it was time to move on down the road.
What tho lovest well remains, the rest is dross.
Think of yourself as a littler freer.
And if you really want another one down the road - you'll get one.
So this one is stamped "Time Sensitive." I don't know if I ever revealed this - but I may suck at B&E but I am a wonderful thief. I think c.c. knows that from way back.
I'm writing a little. Pretty narrowly focused but it is good. Well - prolly not like the kind of good Q would give an A or even B.
I just mean the energy is flowing freely again. Well as free as the Muse offers.
How do you feel about the role of "the Muse?" Being so analytical and data driven - I'm curious. It is definitely a magical thing for me. I worship the Muse.
fuck the hurricane.
okies. I watched "First Cow." Well - I have 14 minutes to go - and truly I'm wondering if I need them. Do I? I'm feeling a bit on edge.
I'm just a little nervous.
Okies. I'm v. sleepy now.
Well, my hillbilly buddy, you know that the weirdly named hurricane should be followed by "Jefferson" or "Jackson." Then the shit could hit the fan, and you know how much we love throwing shit into the fan. And L. lets us see the difference between the north and the south, she partying around with her pals of leisure thinking of their pleasures, staying up late, drunk and stoned and careless while we displaced midwesterners suffer the agonies of old age and tropical disease and danger in this Faulknerian dystopia.
ReplyDeleteCome November, though, it will be a different story.