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.
Notice the building engravings
Chipped wooden blocks
In response to WP Weekly Photo Challenge: Meaningful.
This year’s last photo challenge is supposed to be meaningful. I actually read the instructions in the post, because that’s what I do, and the idea is to post a photo that is meaningful.
That is an impossible task because nothing is inherently meaningful. Things are only endowed with such meanings as we ascribe them. On the same subversive note, here’s a crappy photo which I subjected to filter torture. It was crappy before and it’s still crappy.
What’s meaningful about it is that it’s the first photo I took this year with my DSLR. It was on my birthday, coincidentally. Which might add an extra layer of meaning for some, though I consider birthdays a threatening occasion which only serves to remind us of our mortality.
My argument is, is there meaning to anything when we’re going to die anyway? Sorry, I digressed into meaninglessness. I think it’s called nihilism in philosophy and depression in psychiatry.
Autumn is dead. Here are mugshots for its tombstone. It was back in October when one could still go out without risking death of exposure. Oh well. One more reason not to go out.
All curled up
Water is fascinating
Looking up the trees again
Remember that before the coming of this shitty slush, all was lush green? You don’t? Me neither. But I have pictures to prove it.
Too much filter
The sky is blue. Duh.
Warrior (the tree)
In response to WP Weekly Photo Challenge: Cheeky.
I was flirting with the idea of posting a snap of my literal cheeks for the challenge (not face cheeks, as I don’t post my face all over the internet, the other ones (as I totally post my ass all over the internet?)). But I can do better than a Kardashian. So in lieu of a butt, there’s this phallic little guy poking out of the picture (a stunted sprout? Whatever it’s called in English and in botany; Freud would call it a phallic symbol, and who am I to oppose Freud, right?).
In response to WP Weekly Photo Challenge: Serene.
There is no such thing as serenity. There’s always a sense of threat looming in the quiet, a calm before the storm. Sunsets are particularly scary this way.
In response to Cardinal’s Changing Seasons challenge.
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.
That’s my bitter tears
Old and wrinkly and dead, like me
That’s when I ran out of ideas
You could tell this is near a nuclear plant
Is it lichen? Does it eat trees?