Who painted this? I'll give you a second. O.K. Time's up. Nobody. Yea, this is an illustration I had ChatGPT make from one of my photos. True. You may not be impressed, but I find it all fairly fascinating.
That was done awhile ago. I haven't been on Chat for weeks now. I've moved on.
I ordered a color laser printer from Amazon this morning. It will be here tomorrow. I've decided to work with carcinogens again. I am going to do more transfers. I am enamored of how they look on the Japanese Sumi-e paper. I got excited. My use of the printer, though, will probably be much like my use of Chat. At some point, I'll not use it any longer.
Selavy.
Selavy Photography. If you have a good idea, I'll photograph it.
What sold me on buying the printer? Yesterday, I was going through some hard drive folders that are only labelled by date. I've been lazy. Dumb. Just too dumb and lazy to organize pictures. So I started with the ones from 2020. Lots of crap I never deleted. And then. . . I realized I was looking at my post-retirement, post-Ili life. Covid life.
It was inviting. It was pretty. And suddenly, it didn't look as bad as I thought it was, especially given what I am living now. Food and drink and smokes, the videos I made of myself telling stories. Me in new clothes, hats, shoes. Selfies every time I got my hair done. Me at post-Covid lunches with friends. Me driving into the rural south alone making photographs. And I realized, for all the bitching and moaning, I was much more content than I realized.
And so, after an hour or more of looking at files from 2020 through half of 2023, I decided I was going to make a notebook of those years. I saw it in my tiny mind's eye. And my imagination expanded. I wanted to make one from my surf series, too. There would be lots and lots of notebooks. There would be notes I had written, things I remember, other writings, pieces of other things, small photos, transfers. . . .
What the fuck, you say. . . you are going to scrapbook your life? What are you thinking? Do you know who scrapbooks?
Yea, I know. But Peter Beard did, too. Andy Warhol. And many, many writers.
But don't worry. I'm sure the mania will only last a little while. I will never complete them. I am horrible at collage, so, it may only last a day.
But, you know. . . I'll have a color laser printer.
It did surprise me how much I missed that lonesome, melancholy life. Not lonely, mind you, except for extreme occasions. I must say, I sent out a whole lot of food and drink photos. Looking back at them, I was eating really well. I truly miss takeout sushi on my deck with a bottle of sake. But man, I was cooking well for one, too.
I just miss my life.
I will use small notebooks. Not so many decisions on a page that way, and I can fill them up more quickly, thus achieving the illusion of progress. See? Thinking ahead.
Can't I call it something other than a scrapbook?
You know I have one copy of the "Lonesomeville" book that I used to edit before I made the real thing, right? Never finished making the "real thing."
The finished product was to have a black cloth cover, not white. I found some inconsistencies in the images that I needed to go back and fix. There was that, but it was 90% done. This was just the Pola pics. Maybe I'll go back and complete the thing now. Some people I know would want a copy.
I could make three of four volumes of the digial Lonesomeville photos. I'd really like to make "A Few Days One Summer" into a book, too.
But I can't even manage to put together a website.
I regret all the photos I've never gotten to take, but I have been pretty productive at times. I just should have done more.
I got discouraged once and burned about half of my big prints, but I still have tubs and tubs and tubs full. I'd love to have a big printer again, but I would just keep making prints and have nothing to do with them.
I'm three weeks into Dry January tomorrow, and three weeks out of the gym. I went back on Monday and Tuesday. Holy smokes am I sore. But, you know. . . I must maintain the illusion.
"I read. I write. I make pictures. I (used to) travel. I live in the hearts and minds of people everywhere."
That's my little Anthony Bourdain ripoff. But, you know. . . I try.
Onward. There's a day to be lived, at least for a few hours, and I intend to do it.
Oh! I got a bid for painting my house and apartment from a very good company. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Yea. . . it is "Cha-Ching," but I am going to let them do it. I look forward to having the house repairs done. . . even though I am not living there. But. . . I wanna go back. . . .
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