Archive for Month: October, 2008
Best Shot Monday: Indian Summer
The days are noticeably shorter and the nights are noticeably colder. We wake up in the morning scrambling to put on socks and sweatshirts to keep warm. Leaves are scattered in the yard, while the trees try to hang on to the rest, but it is inevitable, autumn is here. The end of the year approaches, time never stands still.
I feel quieted around these times. Maybe it’s the knowledge that the year is closing? Though it’s probably the fact that [our] earth is preparing for dormancy. And I feel I must, too. There is no sense of urgency. Words seem to get lost. Like leaves they have fallen to the ground and have been swept away by the wind.
Weekly Winners XXXXX
I have been exclusively using my Canon 50mm f/1.4 lens,
and I’m quite happy with the results. It’s a great lens!
There are 77 more winners in my BlissDom ’08 set at Flickr.
Many of the attendees used my pictures in their re-caps and I was so honored by it.
All week long has been a Bliss Fest!
Photohunt: Scary
“Scary”
or any derivative, thereof…
This picture was taken on October 19th just as we were leaving Hotel Preston, the morning after BlissDom’08. Michael stopped to fill up the van with gas before our trek home. I snapped this picture, through the van window, as I thought the malt liquor bottle and cement posts looked interesting together.
There is nothing particularly scary about this shot other than I altered the original using optikVerve Labs “Spooky” filter; I so do love their filters! Spooky and scary are synonyms, after all.
The Letter
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry that our relationship isn’t the way that you envisioned it to be. To be honest, our relationship isn’t how I envisioned it to be, either. I’m sorry that we aren’t talking right now. I think about what I want to say knowing all to well that it would never come out the way it should. The way that it would come out is totally different from the way you would hear it. So I sit here. Silent.
It’s hard to grow up on such a pedestal. I was placed there by so many and I never wanted to fall off. Not because the plunge would hurt, but because it would “look bad.” In the back of my mind I am forever wondering if this, or that, would “look bad.” What else could I do other than hop off the pedestal and take a sledge hammer to it? Clearly there was only one alternative and that would have left me leading a life that made me miserable. So I sit here. Contemplating.
Easily I look in on other families. I hear stories, witness much more, and understand that not everyone has the same lot in life. Some have it way, way worse. Some have it way, way better. I never had it bad. You didn’t either except for the fact that I was your only child. There is no blame in that. Bodies fail all the time. And right now my shoulders are in constant and seething torment from the guilt that I carry upon them. So I sit here. Hunched.
I saw a picture this evening that I took decades ago in the Easter-egg colored dining room. One of you were smiling at me, but the other was not. I’m sure that I must have said something crass to try and elicit smiles. Maybe it’s something you would have said, maybe not? At this point I don’t know if we are too much alike, or if we are polar opposites. Failure after failure, I fear that I have never measured up to what you dreamed for me during your night shifts and over-time. So I sit here. Confused.
There is a pain inside of me. Pain that I cannot seem get out. I rarely speak of it; that’s how much it hurts. I cannot deny that you both don’t feel pained by how our lives have evolved. There is no pedestal now. There is no bridge. There is nothing. So I sit here. Tearful.
And, I’m sorry.
Recent Comments