Shooting Weddings
Tuesday. Back from Portland yesterday after attending the family party on Bainbridge Island across the bay from Seattle, a good trip, even with all the driving. The Element, in its third year of ownership, now has over seven thousand miles. Life in the fast lane one must say, here in Oakland.
Layed about the apartment all day Thursday to clear my head - needed to do that - got up Friday morning before six, moved the cameras, suitcase and laptop into the car, got out on the road before seven. Grabbed a cup of coffee before getting on the freeway, added brandy from the bottle I keep in the glove compartment to jump start the head and kill some of the after effects of the sake from the night before. Mixed it with a hand full of the flavored creamer you get in the little plastic cups with the pull off tops to round out the edges. Once I'd crossed the Martinez bridge I lit a doobie and dropped the car into overdrive. The road slipped just under my ass like a pock marked river and the clouds began to break and let the sun poke through. I think it was the sun. It looked like the sun. It was early morning. It's not always clear.
Your days of doing doobies and Irish coffee to start a morning are long gone. You're losing it.
In a more perfect world I might have worked with that, described at greater length a Portland trip in the classic sixties-seventies manner, but for that I'd need a clear head. And ambition. You can't do twisted when you're twisted (he said). But we wander.
It's easy to say I don't have the energy to do any writing anymore, easy to say because it's obvious, but I don't believe it. I'd say I don't have the need. I could also say the desire, but need is the right word. Only need will get you to the keyboard. Desire is for dilettantes in the outer world of the unwashed. Need's the drug that does the deed.
I mentioned briefly I'd sold the nbbc.com domain name I've owned for the last eight or nine years. To whom I'm still not sure, but I think it was probably NBC, which is doing a video venture with its affiliates called The National Broadband Company. They came out of nowhere and paid a good hunk of change. Not enough to retire on, not enough to take early retirement, but enough to, say, rent a modest studio for a year and buy a couple of backdrops, undertake a photo project I've been kicking around that doesn't involve early morning hours shooting weddings.
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