Originally Posted Sunday, August 31, 2014
I snuck back into the studio with the new camera and an old topic, just to see if I could shoot without the strobes using only the modeling lamps turned down low. No adrenaline producing "pop" of light, only the constant dimness in which I prefer to work. It turned out well, I think. The camera "sees" in the dark. I can work in a different way now. This is how I want to work for carnival project I've suggested for years now. It is more than possible.
The studio was a mess of disuse. I have forgotten where I have put things. Prints have piled up high and need sleeving. Old bottles need carting off to the dumpster. The floors are filthy and need a good mopping. Costumes are crumpled everywhere in piles. Who did this? I wonder. It will take days of work to put everything back into order, but what doesn't?
I tried to begin putting my psyche and body back into some sort of order yesterday. I did alright. I did most of what I set out to do. I walked and did a little gym work and I went to the funky old "health food" store and bought potions and had a clean lunch and a double shot of wheat grass juice. I even drank water. I worked on old photos and then met someone for drinks at the veranda bar before we saw "Boyhood." And afterwards we talked and talked, more talk than I have talked in a long, long while. It is the talking that gets me into the most trouble, of course. Why do I do it, I wonder? All that talking, all that hinting and revealing. I am a good listener until I get nervous, and then a flood of associational thinking just appears as word sounds that startle me, and so I try to correct the last one with the next one, and they go on and on and on.
The sun is up, the sprinklers hissing, the world around me is an illuminated green. You've never seen so much green. Verdant. Fecund. Etc.
I have not planned my day well and will probably end up in the usual routine which I don't need right now. Anything but. Perhaps I will do something unexpected. Am I capable?
I'll let you know.
The studio was a mess of disuse. I have forgotten where I have put things. Prints have piled up high and need sleeving. Old bottles need carting off to the dumpster. The floors are filthy and need a good mopping. Costumes are crumpled everywhere in piles. Who did this? I wonder. It will take days of work to put everything back into order, but what doesn't?
I tried to begin putting my psyche and body back into some sort of order yesterday. I did alright. I did most of what I set out to do. I walked and did a little gym work and I went to the funky old "health food" store and bought potions and had a clean lunch and a double shot of wheat grass juice. I even drank water. I worked on old photos and then met someone for drinks at the veranda bar before we saw "Boyhood." And afterwards we talked and talked, more talk than I have talked in a long, long while. It is the talking that gets me into the most trouble, of course. Why do I do it, I wonder? All that talking, all that hinting and revealing. I am a good listener until I get nervous, and then a flood of associational thinking just appears as word sounds that startle me, and so I try to correct the last one with the next one, and they go on and on and on.
The sun is up, the sprinklers hissing, the world around me is an illuminated green. You've never seen so much green. Verdant. Fecund. Etc.
I have not planned my day well and will probably end up in the usual routine which I don't need right now. Anything but. Perhaps I will do something unexpected. Am I capable?
I'll let you know.
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