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Here In Oakland

Art & Life


June 12, 2013

What They're Like
Wednesday. To bed at a decent hour, although it seemed to take more time than I'd like to drift off to sleep, up with the alarm to head out the door and back from breakfast, forgetting to take a picture of the pandoreas as I was distracted by the change in gas prices (that, of course, requiring a picture). Put gas in the car at the station across the street from the café and returned home feeling just fine, thank you, thinking: how long is this going to last?

I usually go to breakfast, have breakfast over the course of an hour and a half while reading the papers and return home feeling just fine, no complaints, no sorrows. Then, in the later mornings, a period of feeling crappy (funky, tired, aching, run down, distracted, disoriented, etc. etc. etc.) brought on by - well? - who knows? Breakfast? Coffee? Bad living? Hallucinations? I'm not sure it's worth thinking about anymore, just, you know, can the chatter and get on with it. Life is short, best not forget to live it. Just more slowly.

A really nice looking day out there so a walk is coming up sooner than later. Where? Who knows? Who cares? We're still in the up part of the morning when we're clear headed enough to edit yesterday's entry (saving it from complete disaster) before posting it to the aether.

Later. No late morning ocular arrivals, which was nice, a ride downtown to pick up a folic acid refill thinking, as I was then walking the short block to catch the bus - the weather really nice, the sun really nice - maybe I'd delay and walk over instead to the City Center and stick around to hear whatever band was due to play this Wednesday, the start of the summer season City Center noon hour band day.

I decided, or the bus decided, to go home. The small folic acid bottle was awkward to carry in the front pocket, we'll get it home and on the shelf and then, if we're still feeling frisky, take another bus downtown and catch the last half hour of the band. Which makes no sense, but felt right, so that's the way I rationalized my behavior. What's to explain? The time is my own. I'm retired.

Another bus downtown, arriving during the last ten minutes of the concert. I'd brought the 24-70mm lens mounted on a different camera than the one that's been suffering from the occasional misfires (it misfired this morning with one of the gas price change pictures) to see if it was the camera or the lens that was causing the problem. Rather unoriginal pictures, I'm afraid, as I suspect I wouldn't have taken them without wanting to test the lens with another camera. No misfires.

Which means it might be the camera rather than the lens?

Could be, but it needs more testing.

Carrying the camera over the shoulder on the strap I'll occasionally forget to turn the camera off and it will take a picture pointing wherever it's pointing and this happened on the way. My fault? The camera's fault (the on-off switch moving to the on position in rubbing against my pants)? Who knows? Doesn't happen very often.

The only reason I mention this (as a total aside) is because the misfires can be more interesting than the pictures I take on purpose. Might do more of this on purpose next time I'm out, see where it might take it.

A misfire that isn't a misfire can't be called an accident.

We'll call it Faux Accidental Expressionism.

Evening. Clear headed through the day (knock on wood), an odd level of energy that's gotten me up out of the chair this afternoon to dust and put away this and that in the apartment. If I could get this in a pill I'd buy it.

Nothing on television at six, I started watching the Korean program later that runs Wednesday and Thursday nights, but found I couldn't stomach it after twenty minutes, so to bed early. A really good day. Nice to be reminded what they're like.

The photo up top was taken at the San Francisco Carnaval Parade with a Nikon D4 mounted with a 70-200mm f/2.8 VR II Nikkor lens.