Wednesday, December 16, 2015
I usually get about five times as many visitors on the days I don't post as on the days I do. Weird, I think. I don't get as many as I used to, of course, now that I am posting pictures of old men in hats. Why is that? No matter. I plan to begin writing more narratives soon, little stories and tales from a life lived somewhat in the margins, a sort of working class son's rebellion gone not quite right and not quite wrong. If I can manage it, that is the plan. I know, though, how plans go--usually south. Curious phrase, that.
Breaking down the studio and moving things out is taking much longer than I imagined. It is mostly because I think too much. I am a thinker more than a doer. I wonder about how to do things and imagine other ways. I sit and look and ponder and occasionally get up and move a piece. But I will have some help this weekend, and things are certain to move along more quickly then. I've definitely decided on a storage unit, so the prints and Polaroids will go there. The amount of stuff in the studio, though--I mean, it is a small house. I haven't room for most things that are in there.
I have forsaken the news lately. It holds no interest for me just now. I was at a holiday party at my bosses house last night that he throws every year for the workers. It was sparsely attended sadly, but I imagine many people stayed home to watch the debate. No, I don't imagine that. But it is a thing I would not have watched for money, and I certainly don't care to read about it today (though that is what dominates even the New York Times this morning). Avarice and greed and misinformation rule. I am more interested in Pinochle, though last night at the party, Canasta seemed to be the house favorite. I might have to reconsider.
I think I will take Friday off and spend the day working in the studio. Time is running out. And if I get comfortable with the progress I have made, I will buy a deck of cards and make some cocktails and spend the evening under the glow of the Christmas tree learning the thrills of a game of chance. This weekend will have to be for doing my shopping. I am not doing much, just enough to put a few things under the tree. Small things, silly things. Even so, it is maddening.
I don't like the picture I have posted today, either. It has too much contrast and needs a longer tonal curve, something more soothing and gentle. But I haven't time for that today. Yes, that photo would look better in pastels. Quel dommage.