Lucky

Originally Posted Tuesday, October 1, 2013

I have to write this evening if I am to post tomorrow for I have an early day at the factory.  I write even though I resist for I am having a high time tonight.  I prepared myself a delectable dinner and then made a Gin Rickey.  I made it because Q sent me a link to a Dewar's commercial that uses a Bukowski poem for its soundtrack.  It was not the video that inspired me.  The video is complete hokum.  Some actor reads a Bukowski poem in an actor's voice.  I can't find anything in the ad that credits Bukowski.  And the people they feature. . . well. . . they don't drink like Buk, either.  But at the end of the ad there is a recipe for a Scotch Rickey.  I would never try this with a good scotch though anything would be O.K. with Dewar's, I think.  But I remember hearing of a Gin Rickey, probably in movies, and so I was determined to make one tonight.  Don't bother.  You are better off with Gimlets, and those are to be had only sparingly.  I threw the drink in the sink half way through.  Perhaps I am not the best bartender, but I can't see the thing getting any better, really.  Still, it is good to know. 

I have been chosen "Photographer of the Month" on another website.  I will have more on that later.  But having eschewed making photos of girls in the studio has been enlightening.  I worked like the devil for a long time.  People close to me marvel at the energy and output given the conditions.  But now I look back and wonder at it.  What demon possessed me?  How did I do it?  I come home at night now and barely have time to cook and watch an hour's television.  Where did all that energy and time come from?  It just did.  It happens when you are enchated, I guess.  What a whirl!  Now it is time to work on making the images into something other than the pictures you've seen.  But when?  Oh. . . I am weary now and enjoy my early evenings, enjoy reading, enjoy going to sleep.  Life is funny like that.  I want to be outside, want to be in cafes.  It is time for that life again, I think.  Perhaps I'll even be interested in some kind of (limited) relationship.  Perhaps.  But now, I am still weary from the work.  Can you imagine a musician making a song a day for years and years?  I mean one that was posted?  No, that is not fair.  A picture is not a song.  Still. . . and so on and so forth. . . .

The girl in this photograph made being a photographer easy.  She could be pretty or pretty hideous depending on her mood and what I wanted to do.  I was lucky.  I was often very, very lucky.