Friday, February 27, 2009

This is not like home.

Someday I hope to have a special chair. An armchair, all my own, soft and perfect, with pillows and blankets and a side-table with a calm lamp and a stack of books. And anywhere this chair is, is a place I can feel at home.

I'll never have a laptop on my lap when I sit there; I'll never face the TV; I'll never curl up with work or distraction.

I've been thinking about this chair a lot, lately.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Bench thoughts.

My intention was to read, but I ended up scribbling on post-its instead.

Monday, February 16, 2009

On photography

I have sorely missed photography. The feeling of anticipation, the pay-off of pictures like this. So, maybe I missed the chance to touch David Cook's shirt Friday night; I got a picture of all the girls around me doing it, and I remember the energy, their ecstasy in that moment.

For a long time, I haven't been taking pictures. I've been making excuses.

My camera frustrates me, it's a piece of shit, I made a bad choice.
Everyone's always told me I need to live my moments, rather than photograph them; they've never been convinced that taking pictures gives me such joy. It must be false, they've said, I need to stop.

I stopped. And a piece of me fell asleep in the snow and was frozen and buried.

But I think I'm going to reclaim that. That dormant feeling is stirring a little in me; I find myself reaching for my camera more often, wondering if I should bring it with me when I leave the room. An opportunity may present itself, one a cell phone camera just wouldn't do justice to.

I'm remembering how happy this used to make me. I want it again.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Little things.

I love idiosyncrasies. I think those little, insignificant things about people, the things that really make them them, are the most beautiful things.

Alexis has a different voice, vocabulary, and set of facial expressions for each person she talks to on the phone.

Sophia has the most sophisticated artistic eye of anyone I know. You could show her a mess of photos, fonts, colors, graphics, and she could pick out the very best ones right away.

Maybe I feel this way because I'd like to think someday, someone might really love me, and the thing that makes them realize it is my habit of eating tuna fish sandwiches for breakfast or my dislike of blue-ink pens.