Photographs: July 2009 Archives

"The best camera is the one you have on you." - Photographer Dave.

The big problem with having the pocketcam die on me, I realize, is that the number of days on which my bike bag is light enough for me to add the Nikon to its load is relatively small. Especially during a summer as rainy as this one. Raingear isn't light.

Nor are locks. Tools. Hand pump. Laptop. Change of socks. Small stash of underwear, toothbrush, and condoms (hey, I'm a modern girl; it's best to be prepared). Contact lens solution and case. Little tin of various painkillers and other needful meds. Little tin of Cinnamon-flavored Altoids. Lip balm.

The pocketcam was obviously not the finest camera in terms of lens quality, but I find myself really missing it.

Because without it, I miss a lot of other things. I miss taking pics of random street flowers. I miss taking blurry barroom shots that give you that magical sense of movement and energy. I miss being able to show you what I see from the bike. I looked down through the bridge structure today and thought, "This is weird. That's water down there. Those are waves. That is a tugboat. I'm riding over a tugboat."

I miss giving you those small doses of my reality that make a blog worth reading. At least I imagine they do.

I look at other people's blogs, ones with interiors photographed in beautiful light, ones with evocative pics of something as simple as brightly colored yarn.

And I think, well....But my interiors never look like magazine spreads.

There's too much dust, for one. I'm not much of a vacuumer.

And for another, I'm a wee bit protective of my private space. I mean, if I want to let the dust-bunnies accumulate and fail to unpack my books for another month, I feel like that's my business.

What it means, though, is that unless I want to subject you to months of Kitwich pictures, I need to start shopping around for a new pocketcam, or perhaps a less-expensive higher-quality used replacement.

Can't really afford it, but I begin to think I can't afford not to, either.

A friend and fellow blogger remarked that we've both been rather quiet lately, and I felt compelled to try and come up with an explanation for it. Everything I said to her was true (already written most of my Big Ideas here long ago, currently in an emotional whirlwind of upish-downishness, feel like I am repeating myself), but it doesn't necessarily explain why.

I am not sure why, in honesty.

I have been grumpy. I have been restless and not wanting to sit still and write. I have been feeling like I have nothing much to say. If I complain about something one night I might be over it by the next. If I wax enthusiastic about something one day I may have waned by the next. Lather, rinse, repeat.

I feel vaguely queasy at the moment, and I got a bit dizzy when I stood up. It's all a bit migrainey round here.

I have been telling myself (and others) that I think I should end an affair, and I have yet to deal with it.

I am, in fact, astonishingly bad at dumping people. Even (or especially) people I am not technically dating. It is hard, somehow. It is hard to say no to a cute face. It is hard not to want someone to be snuggly with. It is all just hard.

"She hates complications." - Nandi
"They do crop up, though." - Mal
"Such is life." - Nandi