52 Weeks Photography Project
The November Edition.
The November Edition of the 52 Weeks Photography Project presents five open-ended concepts for inspiration. The following are my thoughts.
No.-44 Mirror image
Get me in a Mall and this is what happens. My periphery gets overexposed and starts to blur. I feel the shoes moving in and surrounding me. Colours become vibrant and over-saturated. Space elongates with the pressure of so much commerce. Lines dominate and tilt….. Maybe that’s just me.
Sometimes I, (or more often Bea) think we want something, and venture into a mall. I see people there, in all their levels of human emotion. From aimless wanderers to the focused and stern, task-oriented folks, everyone goes to the mall. Kids running around in it, and seemingly oblivious.
Bea goes deep into stores and I hold the packages while finding the nearest bench. I like malls with handy benches. I like to read the stories of the folks walking by. Everyone has a story and much is revealed in gait and countenance. Yes, for sure, fabrics worn, and tattoos displayed, have reams to disclose.
I try to make the stories happy ones, for all our sakes.
No.-45 In My Life
Cats are more like lions than dogs are like wolves. Cats have retained their predator instincts to hunt and consume prey. Dogs are happiest lying on the couch waiting for the food bowl to fill. Generally, it seems to me, that the average dog today, prefers a good romp with tennis balls, to any hunting commands. I know there are lots of specialty animals but the average jo likes the easy life. There seems to be something that has been bred out of dogs but that cats retain.
We always talk about lap dogs but never lap cats. Hmmmm.
Don’t judge me by the cat we have. She plays nicely for a time, and then as if by a thrown switch somewhere, she wants to bite my face off.
Oh, she purrs (although very softly almost under her breath) when I spoon up some “Wiskers Stew” (at her precise feeding times) but then she soon reverts back to her state of tolerable avoidance.
I can tell you more about Wisker’s Stew. The “meat” resembles worms and the “gravy” as blended slugs. She loves it.
She licks herself during our “talks” as a very obvious ploy, to ignore me, and any eye contact. She has her bed in the spare room but oh no, she has to cement in my legs, and then, at 4 am, start shenanigans so Bea has to get up to let her out.
She insists on exact feeding times and recently refused to accept that we had returned to standard time and that dinner would be an hour later. I explained that it was the farmers who caused the changes, and that, there was nothing I could do. To no avail. She pranced and mewed and rubbed my legs in stern objection, for the complete hour. I held my ground, but just barely.
So I search for an explanation for her generally poor behaviour. Could it be her purchase from a suspected crack house during Covid? Could it be too much freedom as an “outside” cat? Have we somehow neglected or fussed too much?
We tried clipping her nails ONE time. She turned into a wolverine.
We “gently” wrapped her in a towel but whenever we tried to expose one paw they all came out. Never again.
The vet said that they put cats in a harness and hang them upside down for the procedure. Belle’s going to love that.
We’ll keep this between you and me but she somehow fits In Our Lives.
No.-46 Purple Haze
A child has a curious mind. They see me carrying a camera everywhere and sometimes wonder about its purpose. They love new opportunities and as I gently lay down the trail of bread crumbs they slowly, cautiously approached the camera unafraid. “Can I try taking a picture, Pappy?” She was three I think.
Now I let them use the Fujifilm XT20 (kit lens) anytime I can. Again I say gently, “Try to include some shadows in your shots.” Or “ It’s a good night for some fog, do you want to try it?”
We haven’t used any fancy settings yet, but the Fuji is pretty good just using auto. The flip screen on the back sure helps them frame things up.
Liv ventured out to the street and of course, her younger sister wanted all of that. Away they went and the shot above is what they came home with. An Evenings’ Purple Haze.
No.-47 This Must Be The Place.
This is the recording, where it suddenly became clear to me, that the Talking Heads recorded seagulls for parts of the intro of this amazing song. I know they probably didn’t, but perhaps subconsciously during a recording studio near a beach, who could tell what sounds might pop up?
I don’t know for a fact that the Talking Heads sampled seagulls, I’m just asking the question.
I love the tune and I love anybody who loves it. The song always lifted me up. It turns me around and like an ocean, it refreshes.
It makes us aware that there is plenty of time. I see the endless eternal ocean that time doesn’t touch. Open to the ocean, your nose, your mouth, your hair, and imagine the power of a seagull’s wing. These are the lyrics in that song, that guide us.
We breathe with the rhythm of ocean waves, stormy or calm. Go to the coast. Ocean breath gentle or strong wraps to our primordial souls. The spray that carries with it; the salt we crave. The hiss, the lapping, the landed pound, all at the base of our auditory natures.
N0.-48 In The Heat Of The Night
A very old Pine was sitting on the shore
A very old pine indeed
Sat mostly on a rock
Wrapped her roots through and through
But alas, she dropped her last seed
Death is slow in the true north wind.
Blowing from the core.
Yellow from the green.
But stand right up she surely did.
Stood straight until the end
They chopped and split, it took all day.
To get her into rounds
The twigs went first to light it up.
A fire a little slow to start
The hiss and crackle flying sparks.
The warmth in every sound
By darkness falls the watchman.
The workers called the night.
Alone I sit “Keep her fed” the parting words that night.
A hundred sixty on the rings
A pine can hold some truth
Recording every day of growth.
With every inch of root
The light and warmth on a winters night
On a frozen lake so dark
It filled my life, her gentle glow’
It warmed me to the heart.
Authors note. For some reason this poem wouldn’t copy in proper stanza form, which is why I used heading font, to create stanzas.
