Better With Butter
Another long day, but again, no dizziness, a feeling of sharpness, dulled a bit by the tidal wave of projects, of course, but the thought, as I was leaving, wow, maybe this thing really is getting better. Famous last thoughts. This last year has introduced me to and provided instruction in the brevity of this life, how much of it is determined by chance. Doing right does not mean you will do well, doing wrong does not mean you will fare badly. Just on average. Just in the company of your peers. And when you're dizzy, well, what does that mean? The beginning of the end? The end? Too much whiskey? Eat less salt? The end is neigh and I'm worried about salt?
So, anyway, still the aching at the back and the top of the head, still the ringing ears, but less aching, less ringing, no identifiable dizzy spells. Will they continue to decline? I hope so. Do I worry about it? Less as time passes. Less is best. Do I go out and attempt those things in my life I've been putting off, the end being neigh, not much time and all? Of course not.
So let's get on with it. How did the color turn out?
It looks okay. One or two useful shots. I should probably use more color with Carnaval, what with the costumes, the masks, the painted faces, the lack of clothes, the good times, the good manners, the flamboyant fandangos of every kind. People do seem to be in a good mood, you know, letting this photographer shoot their pictures. That's my definition of a good mood, anyway, letting me shoot your picture.
Fandangos are better in color?
Fandangos, my friend, are better with butter.
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