Sunday. Rain, a light drizzle, but enough to get you wet if you're not dressed for it, so I set out for breakfast with my rubberized Gap rain overcoat, Tilly hat and plastic bag wrapped camera (over the shoulder). Breakfast at the usual place with what are becoming one or two recognizable faces on the early morning weekends. We don't do more than occasionally nod, but that's the ambience of the place. Nice, warm, a good breakfast over the papers, home now wondering what to do about the Dia de los Muertos Festival being held later in the Fruitvale district. Wondering what the participants are thinking at the moment, looking out their windows at the rain, white skulls and black shrouds at the ready.

Speaking of which I did post some pictures on artandlife taken at the museum yesterday. I hadn't been thinking I had enough for a section, hadn't really thought about it when I was setting out, and I could have used at least two or three better photographs to make a proper set, but nice none the less. A rainy day, yesterday, an adventure of sorts, but I like the results. Prepares me for the next rain filled adventure. Possibly later this afternoon.

Later. A drizzling rain, but overall, not as bad as yesterday, perhaps because there was less walking out in the open and no standing waiting on a bus. A bus to BART, BART to the Fruitvale station and there I was, relatively dry and ready to rumble. Having successfully used my Clipper card, I might add. For the first time. (Hup! Hup!) I was concerned about the rain, a steady drizzle, would anyone show up? The number of people who got off my train at Fruitvale didn't build any confidence. But, to cut to the chase, compared with last year, it was not a disaster, but more than a little close.

A day to experiment, wrapping the camera in a plastic bag to shoot in the wet. Some modifications will be necessary the next time it rains, you always learn, but overall, I thought it worked reasonably well. Better than some of the commercial stuff that still sits in the closet. And I managed to get some pictures I liked, more pictures than I probably got last year when there were five times the number of people. Something I have to think about. Anyway, I seem to have gotten another section for artandlife out of the group, having gone through all of the photographs when I got home and, as I mentioned, happy with the results. So we'll give a whoop!

For enthusiastic, that doesn't sound all that enthusiastic.

I should pay more attention to matching the photographs to the narrative. I end up putting links to phrases that don't really relate to what I'm talking about and I'm too lazy to change the narrative or go back and choose other photographs more in line with my thoughts. There wasn't much of a crowd, why not underline it with a photograph?

There was more of a crowd than that.

True. And there was more of a crowd later in the day than this photograph shows, but we've started running on empty here and need to stop.

So, adventure over, back to the apartment, still raining, another Sunday afternoon to spend inside, comfortable, the head in a good place. In fact, my complaints about the sinus-upper palate “problem” I think, with the antibiotics and stuff, has now become an upper palate problem without the sinuses adding their weight. The doctor said we'd have to watch them, problems could easily return, but I've been good about the irrigation routine and it seems to be showing results. So good. No, really: good. Good is good.

Later still. Going through the photographs I realize they don't really give a balanced view of the event. Too many photographs of the dancers, too many faces, not enough photographs of the displays or the crowd. Still, that's my bent, the faces. Nobody really goes for balance unless they're working for an editor who has a readership to stroke. Nothing wrong with that, no complaints. No pay, but then you get to say. You call the section the Fruitvale Dia de los Muertos Festival, though, and you might expect to see the whole thing nicely spread out. Then again, maybe you don't.