NestleTollHouseDoubleChocolateMintIceCreamCookieSandwich

 

The problem with this blog is – is that it gets read . . .

 

No – no, that’s not it – it’s not the readers – it’s the fact that I know some of the readers . . . I know them, I’ve eaten meals with them, laughed with them, camped, swam, biked, worked, washed dishes, folded laundry, danced with and spun some of them.  I’ve taught some of them how to drive, pulled weeds with some.  I’ve house sat for a few.  I’ve plotted and pranked, I’ve floated rivers, and counted rail cars.  I’ve driven thru the night, and straight on till morning to be with these friends.

 

I’ve listened to their stories – and helped them write a few of their own.

 

 

Is your past ever behind you?  Or do your previously experiences stand in front of you, like lenses and filters thru which you look at your life and make your choices?

There are times when I want nothing more that to sever myself from my past – to stand apart and to see what the picture would look like without all the filters, without all the lenses.

And look - look what happens – take the lens off my camera, and see what you will.  Can you see my dirty dishes? Can you see the bananas on the counter, or my new stock pot? Or my (sadly) over cooked beets? 

 

Loose the lenses – loose the filters – and as a photographer you’ve lost it all.

 

And as I sit here soaking a stupid foot in very very cold water – as I sit here listening to the Postal Service – as I sit here processing so much, gears working quickly and quietly – processing, and praying, and thinking, and listening.

 

 

Sitting with my foot in a bucket.

 

 

As I sit here I’m reminded that while a photographer looks thru their lenses, they (if they are a good photographer) do a lot of looking apart from, and outside of those lenses. 

They see the light, they see the shadow, they see the eyes, and the smile, and they see – and then, having seen – then they look.

It is then that they use the lens, and the filter, to capture what they’ve seen, and sometimes, sometimes something more.

 

And the more pictures you take – the more you learn your lens, the more you know it’s limits, it’s strengths, the more you’ll find that you won’t have to take as many shots to get the image you were striving for.

 

And as I hobble, away from my bucket, and over towards my fridge to snag a mint grasshopper ice cream sandwich, which, in all truth, will not as good as the nestle toll house double chocolate mint ice cream cookie sandwich I had a few days ago – as I hobble over, I realize that I’m being a little bit melodramatic, and that my past is about as nice as the cool and tasty treat that I’m about to enjoy.

 

That I’ve been crazy blessed, and I need to sit, soak my foot, and think on that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stupid foot . . . . . . .

 

 

 

:)