Saturday, January 11, 2020


Not everyone loves the old photos and stories, I guess.  I've cut my viewer numbers in half.  I didn't think I did this for numbers, but now that there are only me and a few of you, I wonder about the efficacy of it all.

Don't try Googling "What is the meaning of life," or "Why do we make photographs."  I did.  The results were severely disappointing.

As are most things.

They have named my replacement at the factory, and suddenly everyone is cheering.  He is a friend of mine, someone I hired fifteen years ago, and I'm glad he got the job, but Jesus Christ. . . wait 'til I'm gone.


With no girl and virtually no job, I face a great void.  I haven't taken a picture in over a month, so I tried to pick up a specialized camera and some specialized b&w instant peel apart film and make one--just one--picture.  It was a total disaster.  I remembered when I was a a fair photographer, and I thought surely I can be again.

I sent the picture above to a company in Europe who is attempting to make a peel apart color instant film again.  They have done it, but it is not for sale.  I told them I would like to try their film to see if I could do this with their product.  They liked the image and said they would send me three packs.  Pretty awesome.

I have not yet replied.  They want to know my process.

Who the fuck am I now?  That is what I keep wondering.  Alone and crippled, I think, I'm left to begin again.  Oh, yea. . . and old.  If it weren't for the fucking accident. . . . .

I am going to China this summer to teach English.  My flight and accommodations and meals are paid for.  I will earn quite a bit of dough for teaching five weeks, and I will spend it all on traveling in the Far East.  Thailand?  South Korea?  Viet Nam?  Of course, Japan.

There is that to look forward to, and it is not that far away.  I just hope I am still man enough to travel on my own.  God, who knows.

Of course I could always come back with an Asian bride.  Or. . . incredible photographs.

That is, if I can learn to photograph again.  If things go right.

I've figured out that it is the gas pipes that are thumping in my walls.  Fuck.  And Henry the Yardman still has not shown up.  I think he is done for.  I got a screw in my brand new tire (bought all four) and they couldn't plug it because it was too close to the sidewall or something, but they gave me a new one for free.  That is one thing that worked out.  But Social Security is becoming a mess.  I should have gone to a financial planner.

Everything else is a fucking shambles.

Oh. . . did I mention that my big iMac crashed?  I had to buy a replacement.

But. . . it will be fine.  I've been told I'm like a stray dog.  Someone will take me home.  I just hope it is a good one.

I saw the full moon early then slept under its watchful eye.  See?  I'm better.  I didn't say "baleful."

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