I blog like a middle aged couple for whom romance has become a chore
Wilted and saggy, world weary and heavy laden.
That or I just forget to all the time.
I am happy now. Work has slown back down to easily manageble and last night was the first time in a long stretch of wretched months I didn't dread the coming day. I'm still frustrated by people, but now I have time to cope with it, rather than cramming it down into my already crowded psyche.
I imagine its something like a kegger in there. All my old thoughts and fantasies running around sweat soaked and screaming, my brain pumping out Bob Marley while my more rational thought processes run around nude screaming the lyrics to My Sharona. No small wonder I think the way I do, what with the rampant disorderly conduct going on up there. My bizarre and abstract thinking that some how used to link name-calling to bacon and lampshades (as a child) is probably wholly responsible for the weird and wonderful ideas I get for artwork. My head is screwed up and I like it that way. Well, some of it anyways.
My mental state aside, I've been doing lots more photography. I shot some portraits for a friends daughters graduation and I'm really happy how they turned out. One of them, I feel, could even pass for a shot from the top rated studio in town. I do lots of work for them all, so I feel like I have this deep secret that should never see the light of day. My dream is to one day usurp their strangle hold over the professional photography market in town. I'm an ambitious man, a photographic despot, if you will. Of course these are all dreams now, little more than the sociopathic muses of a young man.
As I web-log, I realize that I haven't written like this in months. I think it a sign stress is on the decline. At the risk of sounding like the geek I am: w00t
That or I just forget to all the time.
I am happy now. Work has slown back down to easily manageble and last night was the first time in a long stretch of wretched months I didn't dread the coming day. I'm still frustrated by people, but now I have time to cope with it, rather than cramming it down into my already crowded psyche.
I imagine its something like a kegger in there. All my old thoughts and fantasies running around sweat soaked and screaming, my brain pumping out Bob Marley while my more rational thought processes run around nude screaming the lyrics to My Sharona. No small wonder I think the way I do, what with the rampant disorderly conduct going on up there. My bizarre and abstract thinking that some how used to link name-calling to bacon and lampshades (as a child) is probably wholly responsible for the weird and wonderful ideas I get for artwork. My head is screwed up and I like it that way. Well, some of it anyways.
My mental state aside, I've been doing lots more photography. I shot some portraits for a friends daughters graduation and I'm really happy how they turned out. One of them, I feel, could even pass for a shot from the top rated studio in town. I do lots of work for them all, so I feel like I have this deep secret that should never see the light of day. My dream is to one day usurp their strangle hold over the professional photography market in town. I'm an ambitious man, a photographic despot, if you will. Of course these are all dreams now, little more than the sociopathic muses of a young man.
As I web-log, I realize that I haven't written like this in months. I think it a sign stress is on the decline. At the risk of sounding like the geek I am: w00t
posted by Bray at 10:32 AM
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