Day For Pictures
Sunday. I did watch the first fifteen minutes of the German Marie's Mind For Murder at nine last night, another program with a woman homicide detective character I've noted before that's (still) written by idiots. She along with the rest of the central group of characters make really dumb, not to be made twice because they will get you killed/fired/sent to the woodshed decisions, that in real life would end the story. Death does that. So I bailed and went to bed well before ten. Probably the best thing it had going for it.
No setting the alarm for a Sunday, so up maybe twenty minutes after the alarm usually sounds to head off to breakfast, the Times not yet having arrived. Probably for the best, two Sunday papers are more than enough to read over breakfast.
We'll set out for the How Weird Street Faire around noon today in San Francisco. When I was still coming to consciousness this morning I half fought the idea of going, but felt and feel more than up for it now that I'm running. Walking. So good for the day, although it tends to cloud our prognosis/hopes for the future.
I've been photographing these events for so long now that it would probably be better if I were to make changes, change the way I approach them, go after different subjects in an attempt to rekindle the eye (and make for better pictures), so we'll continue to think about it. Tomorrow, after we're done for the day. Today we'll shoot Weird and be happy about it.
Later. A bus to the ATM and then on to BART and the How Weird Street Faire, arriving (probably too early, I'm bad about that) not too long after twelve and leaving more than two hours later after three hundred photographs and much walking. Lots of people, the street layout a little different, but again, I should really have arrived an hour later than I did as some of the advertised bands hadn't started until the end of my session.
A bunch of pictures, two sections for artandlife, maybe three if we fudge a little. Probably best to stay with two. Not sure what my feeling is in comparing it to past events. Again, plenty of people, a reasonable mix, but something was different and I'm not sure what.
Tired anyway, the good kind of tired, and so back on BART to catch the bus home, stopping at the 7-11 look-alike to pick up a sandwich, one of those packaged in a plastic affairs, turkey and Swiss. Not the best idea was my decision as I ate it walking those last three blocks home, but there was nothing else that appealed.
Now it's been run photographs through Lightroom and Photoshop time since three-thirty in the afternoon and soon on into the evening. Need to get in the guitar so we'll stop and finish them tomorrow. One or two I like, many I don't, but that's the way the game is played.
Evening. More pictures. Nothing to watch on television, although I did finally give up on Photoshop (not quite finished adjusting all the photographs, the web work we'll get to tomorrow), sat down to tune the guitar and turned on the nine o'clock Swedish Wallander to an episode I discovered I'd once started watching, but bailed through lack of sympathy for the character.
Which gets us to bed at ten-thirty. Awake, not tired other than muscle tired (not a bad at all reaction to a long day), a reasonable session on the guitar even though it's been a day for pictures.