I went out with a camera. This might not strike you as much. Even better, this might not strike you at all. Worry not though, I’m here to tell you that it’s a badass achievement.
You must consider that I go out rarely and that I go out with the camera about as often as the leap year occurs. If not less frequently.
What I found out outside is that it is autumn. Whatever. I shot to kill and here is what I brought home. Which is, again, not much. It’s my recurrent theme.
I had an acute episode of feeling weird yesterday. I know, that’s not a very specific description of the condition. I don’t know what my bloody problem was, apart from lacking a will to do anything, including breathing.
I fixed it though when it occurred to me to pleasure my OCD (aka CDO) and dig around in my computer archives with the apparent purpose to organise them. It was really an emotional displacement because everything about me, including my archives, are well organised already. Except it’s not perfect, so here you go.
What I dug up was shocking. That is, boring to anyone but me, who was genuinely surprised and sometimes severely shocked at my own paraphernalia. I couldn’t even remember that I ever created some of the content I found, but unless my cat has a covert hobby, it must’ve been me.
Among other long-forgotten and hence basically non-existent stuff, I found: unexpectedly good poems in Czech (in a folder labelled creative writing, so I must’ve authored them); love letters (what the actual fuck?); something written in German (I do recall I studied German but no longer speak the language); and photos, a lot of photos.
The ones in the gallery were originally posted on Flickr, before I deleted my account after not using it for years. (You get the sequence of events here, right?) They were taken with my beloved red compact camera, which I no longer own and wonder whom I gave it to. Because I want it back.
My first awkward attempts at shooting in other mode than auto.
In response to WP Weekly Photo Challenge: Place.
This could be anywhere. Or could it? It’s not anywhere anyway. It’s Eastern Europe. Not eastern Europe with a lower-case e as a geographical region, but Eastern Europe capitalised as a former political unit (aka Eastern Bloc), which still retains its sociocultural characteristics today. Why should you care? Oh, you shouldn’t! Unless you’re into places in the middle of nowhere. That’s where my place is. Nowhere. I’m saying, not complaining.
In response to WP Weekly Photo Challenge: Lines.
In response to WP Weekly Photo Challenge: Awakening.
Hardened in heart anew,
But glad to have sat under
Thunder and rain with you,
And grateful too
For sunlight on the garden.
—Louis MacNeice
What happens on Instagram doesn’t stay on Instagram. That sounds catchy and cheesy, right? What I mean is that I give you literally what I posted on Instagram last week, continuing in my snap-a-day thingy.
In response to WP Weekly Photo Challenge: Favourite Place.
To be miniaturised is not small-minded.
To love you needs more details than the Book of Kells—
Your harbours, your photography, your democratic intellect
Still boundless, chip of a nation.
—Robert Crawford
Guess my favourite place!
I’m obsessively taking photos, on which I toss them in the archives and forget about them. So, I’m thinking, what the fuck, let’s post some of that old stuff on the blog. Extremely topical (not), here goes last year’s autumn.
Mara Eastern 