Exausted

It's been a while since I've been this tired. It has been rather it is the end of a long day - I've been going at it for 18+ hours.

A good tired. A sore back - long walks getting gas for a car with a fickle attitude about where empty should be.

Council's of war, a visit to Yakima's only co-op-esk store for malt sweeter (a secret ingredient for a baking project) mourning the death of my sourdough starter. Apparently you should not add flat beer to a sourdough starter even though the flavors would make for a perfect sort of combination.

Selling my camera - taking a break from pictures after the first of the year. I'm keeping a film camera - may make the switch to Nikon - a film Nikon. I've got to break the news to a few friends who's weddings I will not be shooting.

What once was easy and effortless and so enjoyable has become something different. Maybe it's because my I-pod died and now there is no music when I walk and think with my camera - maybe it because I don't have hours to wander and fields and city's to explore - maybe when spring returns and light and music return to my evenings, I'll go for walks and bike rides and to adventuring with friends, and maybe then I'll find things worth taking pictures of - moments worth capturing. A good picture grabs you - be it suddenly and forcefully or quietly stealing back into your mind hours later like a tune or a scent or a memory. It may make you cry, or smile, or feel something. It may have nothing to do with the actual composition and everything to do with the subject. A blurry poorly lit face, or a dim landscape which is a key to a huge repository of memories.

And so I'm taking a break from pictures for a while - not forever, but I want to be away along enough to rediscover why I love them. Like that fist crisp slice of watermelon in summer or the first smell of woodsmoke in the fall.

So who knows? The day's distractions are enough for the day. I'll take a stab at sourdough again and make bagels with friends.

I'll go for walks and make a bigger table for my apartment. I'll borrow Dad's bike rollers and prep for a century while listening to Chandler and DTS courses. Upstairs, peddling, putting on the miles in the confines of my apartment, away from the salt and the ice.

I'll tow the Mercedes home and see if I can rouse her out of her stupor. Belts and hoses and motor mounts. I'll road trip to California for a once in a life time trip with friends I love.




A good sort of exausted