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October 16, 2016
In many ways the week just passed like a falling meteor, burning through air, turning to ash and then a wisp of nothing before one had a chance to say: “Wait! There is more to do!” In other ways the week just passed like a heavy wagon stuck in mud-clay in narrow tracked wheel ruts, and one had every reason to say: “Hurry! There is a need to rest these weary bones, muscles and mind.”
Always a coin, always flipped, forever tossed into air, always landing on the edge. To put it another way: Life is a top spinning, and spinning into the moment. No time to grasp a lever stopping the spin until the kinetic energy of this top can no longer resist gravity. Tumble and fall, all of us, each at our own moment, mostly never picked on purpose.
Like the morning and afternoon walks whatever comes is what is used. Not too many of those at this time. It seems the photographic life is losing its place in the scheme.
Had a friend once, in Payson, whom I watched descend into being just another amateur, no longer a shooter of note. This writer wonders how his life is now. Has he hung up his camera, put it away in a closet, or placed it on a table near the door for those times when he escapes out into the world?
I hope he is still shooting. I hope he has not lost his energy. I hope his images please him more now than they ever have. May he shoot until the sun sets, and his camera dies from overuse.
Which brings to mind these thoughts. Without the brown dog as companion there is no urgency in the free weekend mornings, nor the easy warm late afternoons of Fall searching for those abstract images, or curiously placed objects and/or people as they go about their business. Not walking Burton Road has taken away many of the vistas once available at fifty yards down the road.
Sometimes, location is everything. Sometimes, those companions whom are no longer with us, and who have shared many footsteps bring one up short of ambition. Just reflections on what once was. There is always a new horizon, a different vista worth pursuit.
That being expressed, another flash of the fingers stirs these words. Earbud wearing enhances the keyboard strikes of expression. An amazing aspect is the management of language, of expression; making images with words. Some are blessed with this ability. This writer is thankful and grateful for whatever skill has found life on electronic paper, and in digital images.
This will be the second weekend without a morning or afternoon walk. No images offered. No images taken. Just some thoughts bouncing around the walls, halls, and empty staircases of this turbulent mind.
My brother once called it (me) a troubled mind. Cannot argue that. We have done many things together, and know each other like twins, though born 15 months apart. Those bonds of brotherhood are never broken.
The sun rises on another new week. How shall it pass? Swiftly? Like meteors showering the atmosphere? Or will it sink slowly into ground like a deep muddy spot waiting to swallow the week one day at a time?
I am grateful for your visit. Thank you.