Friday. Friday, good. Up this morning and back from breakfast with the alarm as I've gotten up and out and back now every day for what is probably much too long. But no complaints. The day looks good, the sun is out, the sky is reasonably clear (blue with some scattered way up high white fluffy clouds) and my attitude is way better than it was just yesterday. Go figure. I certainly can't. But again, the day ahead, pictures to take if only here in the apartment (I have a swell addition to the radio slaves that I want to try) and this thing to write.

I assume writing this isn't altogether a burden what with the volume of crap you've managed to put out day in and day out.

Who knows? I don't really even think about it anymore, part of the woodwork. You sit down when you get back from breakfast and mention you've been to breakfast. You sit down after your walk and mention you've had a walk and post any pictures you may have taken that aren't altogether wretched. You sit down when the evening first arrives and finish it out. Unless your head is too fuzzy to tell how badly the writing may have gone earlier in the day and you put off a final edit until morning. Part of the woodwork. I don't even think about it other than at odd moments such as this.

Later. Antsy early on, this morning, so out the door just after nine thinking where to go from here. I ended up walking down Grand to Broadway, but with a little different route that took me over to Telegraph and then up to 25th between Telegraph and Broadway where they have a number of studios along with the usual automotive repair shops. Feeling good, let me tell you, taking pictures with interest, wondering again (and again and again) what I might find if I were to look for a live-in studio.

This after yesterday's funky dead end. What the hell.

Instead of going with what then was the flow and jumping on a bus to explore another part of the city and really getting myself tuckered out, I figured the three or four miles I'd walked were more than enough and stopped by the Peet's behind the Christ the Light Cathedral for an exotic coffee. Did I want whole milk? Yes. Did I want whipped cream? Of course. It will fill in for lunch, that mocha-freddo-whatever it was, and will have delivered every bit as many if not more calories. Nice. Caught a bus then home and here I sit.

I know I go on and on, but the difference in attitude, the lightness in step is quite amazing. Or close to amazing as I guess this has happened more often than I seem able to remember. Maybe just say the hell with it, catch the wave and get one or two of the things done I have on my to-do list. Print a picture or two for the upcoming studio show that will never happen (in this or the next century)? Why not? Test that new zone controller gizmo I mentioned I'd recently gotten for the Pocketwizards. Don't order that 44" printer, though.

Don't order that what?

I got to thinking about doing some really large prints. You think studio, you think larger prints. The overboard aspect of getting rev'ed up. If I ever get a studio with the room and the energy to do more photography I'll get one, but then, not now.

Later still. Guitar and taxes. So far guitar has the upper hand, I've played more chords and scales than I can imagine. I seem more than willing to sit and practice (given the alternative).