I usually start a blog post with a picture. I choose the picture and then begin writing. I chose a picture this morning, then I sat and looked at the screen for a long, long time. Nothing came to me. The picture was a little glum, and I thought it was putting me in a bad mood, so I changed it. Blue skies and sunlight.
And still I haven't a thought in my head. I'm trying to recall something--anything--that might be of interest, but only the deadliest dullest stuff comes to mind. Nothing happened yesterday. I mean, the same or similar things happened yesterday as have happened (and often been reported on here) a hundred times before.
I don't mean that one can't write creatively about nothing. Such a thing can be lovely writing. Annie Dillard is a master of that. A dustball blowing across the floor becomes a cosmic metaphor that takes pages to explain.
I haven't such a thing in me today. Well. . . do I ever?
I do remember one thought from yesterday. I was looking at cameras online, and I said to myself (I said), "There is a a correct camera for every project. First things first. You need a project."
Then last night, I dreamed it. I was actually choosing the right camera for what I was shooting. This year, like many, I have been remembering many dreams. It is interesting to find the relationship between what you (I) do in the daytime and what it brings up at night.
But other people's dreams. . . .
Here's something my buddy sent me last night. I'll put a link to it here. You will find it far more interesting than this post.