The day is starting slowly. Take a bath, turn on the computer and check a couple of journals. I don't read that many journals and there are times when I can't read any of them at all except for one or two. With this DSL connection, though, I think I'll just leave the computer on all the time. Much like we do at the office, most of the desktops are never shut down. I may pick up another CPU, just a box and a heavy duty power supply today, and let it run essentially until it fails. The utilities are paid in the rent, so what's the difference? The utilities have been paid in the rent for so long now I have no idea what it costs to run a light bulb or a computer or a Bessemer Electric Furnace, for that matter.

There are implications to 24 hour access. I may think about this for a while, we may all have to think about this for a while. The ability to just flick to anywhere. Not that its all that difficult to fire up the system and dial in, but this machine is just sitting here now, on all the time, always connected, just the way it is at the office but without the restrictions, moral or mechanical. Read a journal? Write a journal? Post a photograph? Modify a page? Check the market? Send an email? It's right there before breakfast, right there after dessert. A 24 hour presence, a kind of window on the world. The whole world. A web cam next? I have an industrial model at the office. Maybe its just too much coffee this morning. Or not enough.

I need to get out and walk around some more this morning. I've been out and bought the papers, skimmed them over a cup of coffee in a place on College. The woman behind the counter was wearing a dark, almost black shade of lipstick. She was dark complexioned with black hair cut in a square banged kind of flapper style like someone made up for the stage. I told her I liked the color, that it worked and she thanked me and said she'd had people say that, but never from a man before. I'm a photographer, I replied.

I should have been a little more forthcoming and said I was a photographer and I liked the image she'd created, one that I'd like to shoot. Yes, there's a certain undercurrent of lust, but a distinct part of that lust had to do with images on film. Not everyone can do that, strike that spark, but it's a spark that creates the desire to make images and once made, make some more. Images are emotional if they're anything at all, and sex, lust, attraction, affection, hate, loathing and all the rest can be used in their making. Indifference doesn't work, I don't think, but I'm sure it's not a rule and there's some weird assed geek out there somewhere, shooting, stretching out through indifference to meet the very Hand Itself. Shit, man, go for it! After Godel, I guess, everything is possible.