I’m continuing in my non-challenge of taking and posting a non-photo on Instagram every day. I still haven’t figured out what I’m trying to achieve, but I have patience enough, so I’ll just wait and see what becomes. While we’re all waiting for me to figure out what I’m up to, here are seven more photos covering seven more days.
I’ve been diligently taking a photo a day since the beginning of the year. It’s not like I’m doing a 365 Project. I’ve completed two and abandoned one two thirds along the way. It’s rather that I have no idea what I’m doing and I keep on posting it on Instagram.
Scroll down to view the evidence and read my elaborate photo descriptions. Or don’t, I’m not telling you what to do. I would, but no one listens to me, so I won’t. Or will I? I have decision paralysis, so decide on my behalf. Problem solved. Or not.
I went out shooting for a bit today. There’s chronically nothing to shoot around. So I made do with the seasonal enhancements to the village square. I deliberately toned down the bright colours and cheeky glitter in some parts of the photos. To me, this is a more appropriate representation of the season than the false cheer that one is force-fed.
I perceive Christmas as the epitome of falsitude. Whether we view it as an originally pagan or as a Christian celebration, people who are neither ancient pagans nor Christians celebrate it nowadays. I find this extremely puzzling. What I associate most with the season, besides false cheer, is obligation and duty misrepresented as affection and love.
Also, there is seasonal anxiety, pressure, vague disappointment, gnawing aimlessness, deeply felt loneliness, fear of the new year, regrets about the old year, unfulfilment and all that is crap. Along these lines, here are my crappy photos.
I thought I’d never go out in November. And I didn’t go out. I rode a bike. That was my third attempt at the bike after fifteen years. It went poorly, and I don’t get farther than two kilometres. Then I collapse, catching for breath and fending off a heart attack. Obviously, yoga doesn’t prepare you for aerobic activities.
I deeply regretted venturing out. I nearly killed myself. I’m suicidal, perfectly normal, but dying while biking isn’t my preferred way to go. I also had the bad idea of revisiting my childhood woods. Apparently, they’ve been abandoned ages ago, so I was drowning in swamps and fighting through wild vegetation. Next time I’ll bring my machete.
Except there will be no next time. Even if I’m alive to see December, I’m not fucking crazy enough to go bike riding in December. And since I live in the middle of nowhere with little to no public transport, and since I’m not a car owner, and since I hate walking (apart from everything else), I don’t think there will be an opportunity to shoot changing seasons. Maybe from the window. As I said in October, I’m not going out the next month.
Changing Seasons is (soon was) the best challenge ever. My enthusiasm about this photo challenge is no way comprised by the fact that I hardly ever took part in it. To enjoy it while it lasts, here are my photos for this year’s September, which I actually did bother to take specifically for this purpose. Otherwise, I’m rarely bothered to take photos, unless mobile ones, which aren’t real photos really.