Nothing Matters

I forgot to charge my computer last night.  I only have 9% charge left, so I am writing quick(ly).  Here's another people-less picture in my series of people-less pictures.  It is grand.  It is rich.  

Apparently, people aren't interested.  But I am starting to see Hopper in them.  Tropical Hoppers.  But back up, bud.  I'm self-aggrandizing here.  

Still, all I've been photographing is the light.  I have learned much about light these past few months.  Few?  It has been four months of isolation, five of retirement, six without my own true love.  Almost six, anyway.  What else have I had but the light?  

My days have become compressed.  I get up, make coffee, read the news which is more than ever an irritating mistake, write the blog and some correspondences, stretch my legs as I walk the grounds, come in and dress for a brief workout and/or a long walk, come home to shower and make lunch, usually with wine which makes me sleepy enough to take a nap, get up mid afternoon or later, go to my mother's for happy hour, come home to make dinner and listen to the opinions that pass for news these days, find something to read or watch on television, often some YouTube documentary, have a final scotch, and go to bed.  That is what I've done for the past five months.  

WTF?

I have probably burned through three tanks of gas in that time, almost all of it from traveling back and forth to my mother's house.  

It doesn't seem that things will be changing any time soon.  It is weird, though, that when I am on the road or on my walk down the Boulevard, things look normal.  People are shopping and eating out, most not wearing masks.  But when I talk to people I know, they are not going out, are physically distancing and not going into crowds.  Are we the only ones?  Kids certainly aren't distancing.  Hundreds of thousands of protesters aren't.  Do I only know paranoids or people who can read and comprehend?  

But I understand.  I am sick of my solo existence.  I wish to go to a coffee shop or cafe.  I wish to talk to strangers and hear their tales.  I would love to sit at the bar of my favorite lunchtime restaurant and have a big bowl of ceviche and a drink.   Others do.  Why not I? 

I want to photograph a person again.  I don't care what people think of that.  They are wrong.  Human structures are sometimes interesting, but people always are.  

And, of course, the light.  

Power is almost gone.  The red Low Battery warning just came up.  There is some speed writing for you, a first draft of nothingness.  #NothingMatters.  #NoThingsMatter.