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 17, 2009

July 17 2009

I worked this morning clearing weeds, spraying wasps nests, raking, moving lumber and old railroad ties. I wanted to get up early so I could beat the heat of the day but the headache I woke with made me close my eyes and pray for rest. I got it, but had to work in the heat as payment. I felt lethargic as I worked. My mind was active enough, ordering the task to maximum efficency, but my muscles would not follow. I thought, "I'm not even thirty, what's with this exhaustion?" and I groped for what may have changed since I could work in this environment. Then I thought, "When was I ever able to work in this environment?"

I grew up in the midwest with the humidity--sweltering days with heat indexes that would make you dig a hole in the heat just to sit in the shade of the wet, cool earth once it was deep enough. I never had to work in thin atmosphere and desert dryness. The sun pierces with needles, and even dry shade is cooler than standing in the sun. I don't even know I'm sweating, the moisture evaporates so quickly. My skin burns underneath my bluejeans and t-shirt--even covering myself is insufficient.

I do not deal with this heat well. It possesses a quality far surpassing that of the hell we joke about in St. Louis. Furthermore, I see people recreating in this heat; people hike and bike the desert trails--it actually draws people to this area. It's not for me. I am more seriously thinking about changing my sleep schedule to 10am to 6pm and getting work done in the dead of night, where it's a breezy 70.

This picture: 4:30 in the afternoon. Actually 2 degrees cooler than when we passed the intersection a half-hour earlier.

Tomorrow's noun of the day: method

No comments: