It's o.k. I'm over it. I slept pretty well through the full moon last night. My sleep and dreams are colored by what I watch on television before bed, I've found. No more dramas before bed for me. Nope. I've been watching the dumbest "reality" shows on t.v. Then I go to bed and dream about them.
So it was last night. I feel better this morning.
I went out to look upon the full moon last night. It was huge as it rose over my neighbor's house in a clear, cold sky. I gave it brief love and hurried back in.
I spent yesterday with a hard drive full of old picture files. I used to take a lot of pictures, even with my old girlfriend's obvious displeasure. She did not approve of the whole picture taking thing. She was opposed to all the remnants of my past, and pictures were a big part. But somehow, I managed to make them in fair quantity. I just didn't get to work on them much. I spent yesterday working on some of them. It was fun. I tried different post-processing ideas, changing the tonality or shifting the color hues and saturations. Taking the picture is the hard part. Post processing is a wonderland of choices. But you need the picture first. I really need to start making more pictures.
In spending hours with the old files, I was learning much. I mean, I could see how I missed the shot or how I could have made it mean more. Oh. . . if I ever get back on the street again. . . .
I noticed once again that the vast majority of photographs of me, of which there are not so many, were taken by me. Mirrors, window reflections, etc. And in memory, I don't think I've ever had a girlfriend who put my picture up in their place. I don't photograph well, I know, but still I find that odd. Right? I mean, do women put up pictures of their boyfriends? I haven't really paid attention to this. Is it just me or is there a psychology in play here?
Surely it is just me.
I am one week away from my second Moderna vaccine. And as my travel/art buddy told me, the first ones in always get fucked. My dreams of freedom are being shit on by the new S. African variant of the virus. My vaccine may not be effective against it. You who will not get vaccinated for months, however, will probably get one that covers the spectrum of viral mutants. And while you are out at bars deciding on whom to give favor, I will be watching "Southern Charms' and eating snacks from Trader Joe's.
Or so it seems.
I should never have retired. Look what has happened since. I am sorry. Perhaps if I go back to work, things will get better. For all of us. I've not had a moment of enjoyment so far this year. Something's got to change, and it needs to be more than just the shows I watch on television.
On the other hand, you know. . . be careful what you wish for, eh? I may end up yearning for this quiet, monastic existence after all.