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 30, 2009

July 30 2009 Battling entitlement

Everything that is to come to me, whether it is freedom, health, family, even salvation, all of this is something I work for, make an effort towards. You can't make me anything. My choices lead me.

I sat on a curb today having walked the length of the Farmer's Market and picked up a jar of honey, eaten local chicken, and sipped a limeade. The topic of conversation was that there was something irritating about every place we could think of to go, and that there weren't enough choices. Of course, that's an expectation that this town that thinks it's a city should supply for us. I'm not likely to start a restaurant just so I can eat in it, or a brewery just so I can drink at it, or an outdoor patio just so I can enjoy the incredibly nice day and have someone serve me. What I can do, however, is sit on my own porch and sip a beer or soda I purchased and be satisfied with it. It's better than going somewhere and complaining about the lousy selection, when all I really want is one thing that I'm capable of providing myself.

Sometimes it's pretty easy to forget.

Photo on auto-flash taken toward the sun in the shadow of a sign.

The last day of mad-libs and the word is: track

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