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.

July 10, 2009

July 10 2009 A pleasing kind of slime

I worked early. It was fractions. I like fractions.
I visited my now-not-pregnant friend and one of her two beautiful babies.
I got home to find a new carburetor in the Mercury.
I went to work again. It was how many legs bugs, animals, and birds have, and adding them.
I got home to find a good reason to take the Mercury for a test drive: Palisade peaches and fishing.
I got peaches.
I got my feet stuck in the mud of the river bank.
I helped my son get his out of the mud when he really, really sank in.
I had no way to wash the peaches. I peeled them instead.
I got covered in peach goo. So did the kids.
I had a beer and popcorn at the brewery.
I took a nap when I got home.
I cured sadness when writing in a book wasn't an option. I suggested a journal. It required a trip the 24hour store at 9 pm. She got to pay.
I transcribed all the entries I had handwritten. All that's left is photo and publishing.

Portrait setting, no flash, a ton of zoom. I love the composition of this one.

Tomorrow's word: stick

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