Following the third year of a holiday letter comprised
of my (increasingly complex) life via a (increasingly complex) year-in-photographs, I
wondered what it would be like to join the great experiment of 365 days of photographs.
I'm not a photographer,
I'm a writer. I'm a visual thinker, and if ever there was proof that a photo is worth a
thousand words, it would be the story a photo tells me, or in this case, about me.
Follow me on this adventure, where I
learn about photography, my ability to record my life, my dedication to something (I've
never been known for doing anything everyday) in my posts. I've also discovered I'm
learning about time, the history of it, and the odd practice of recording it, measuring it,
turning it into something tangible, and I'll record these explorations in the sidebar.
As always, feel free
to say anything. My experiment is not a spectator sport.

June 13, 2009

June 13 2009 With a Trace of a Grin

Today I did none of the things I predicted yesterday I would. Instead I tackled the pile of teaching and school stuff and clothes-to-grow-into in my daughter's room and managed to get all the boxes emptied. I almost went back to organize everything but didn't want to be reclusive. Instead my husband and I decided to work together on this big kitchen project that is supposed to save our sanity: we switched the snacks, spices, and drink mixes and tea and stuff from the pantry to the island and the liquors from the island to the pantry. We cleaned everything as the dust here in the desert manages to become uber-sticky when it lands on things in kitchen areas (I've seen other people's kitchens. I know it's not just me). Now the liquors will stay clean, and I wonder if the children will start helping themselves more to the snacks and stuff, and depending, it might be okay. In either case, the change should really make a difference.

I have a philosophy of living quarters, which, when I talk about it, I state that I do not try to change our habits to my organization, but instead, my organization to my habits. It takes time and tolerance, and sometimes things don't work and sometimes they do. The recycling is no longer an argument. The dishes-cleaning is less frequently an argument. The entertainment media (cds, dvds, tapes, albums, vhs) are no longer an untameable mess. Pots and pans, tupperwares and lids, beer and soda and juice, the overstock from Sam's Club, none of these things are the frustrations they used to be. There is still a lot of progress to be made, but in my opinion, I have the rest of my life to get comfortable. I moved into this house with more stuff than would fit into it, and only time and habit will teach me how to arrange it and what stuff I don't need anymore.

This pile caught my eye this morning as it represents one month's worth of work. A transient thing, as it will be broken down and recycled this week, the photograph represents a moment in time more than anything else. Auto+zoom.

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