Around Here

I read somewhere that the electronic signal of the original I Love Lucy broadcast is just now reaching some distant star in our galaxy. Perhaps the conversation I had this morning with Rick is somewhere in the vicinity of the moon. In Matthew, Jesus said that we will have to give an account for every idle word we speak. Are the things we say out there? They don’t just disappear once they resonate on the tympanic membrane of the nearest organic life form? They keep going? There are a handful of things in scripture that came home to me like a slap across the face - the kind of slap a Zen master gives a student to get his attention. That was one of them. Since then I’ve tried to honor the check in my spirit that I sometimes feel when I’m about to say something unwise. Something venal or ill-willed. Clever and foul. It isn’t easy. The urge to plow through can be intense. There’s usually some emotional momentum behind it. ...

Long time, W. You're such a crazy mix of affection and thorns... While I disagree that eating, drinking, reading, are not "life", the deeper governing aesthetic of the way I deal with people is that the photographs are essentially portraits and therefore often, though not always, solos. Beyond that, I often see people as elements of composition. I talk about this in my post "Along the dotted line." The beach, of course,  is  generally a place of repose. I'll do a boogie boarding or volleyball or some other action shot once in a while, but it's very easy to get into Chamber Of Commerce world that way, and that's not where I live. Why am I explaining myself to you? Is it my job to minister to your aimless discontent? My fondness for bicycles, and a few other objects share this meaning for me as well; they're appealing to me as compositional fodder apart from their use in transportation, which I take as a given reference. Perhaps you've noticed ...