2013 started off really well. I had high hopes and a good feeling about the year. Then the next week and a half walloped me with stress and anxiety and pretty much every other unpleasant emotion you can think of.
And then my birthday rolled around.
I just had a profoundly lovely, low-key day. There was skating and Beaver Tails, beautiful presents from my family, brunch with a couple ladies who I haven't seen for far too long, a leisurely wander through Chapters, good news on the job search front, good news on the PhD applications reference letter front, delightful news about a dearly missed friend coming to visit in about a month, and semi-plans for some future social outings. I've been crying a lot of happy tears today.
P.S. Remember the first time I took a picture of these bolts? I've accumulated...oh, one or two other shots of them since. I took this one when my family was down at Christmastime.
A few days ago, Audrey sent me a text message: "What did you want to be when you grew up when you were a kid?" The question stymied me, not simply because it was out of the blue but because I actually didn't know. Not, I don't remember, but as a kid I really didn't know. So I told her this and related an assignment I distinctly remember from some point in elementary. We had to draw a picture of what we wanted to be when we grew up and do some kind of report on it. I had no idea. I think I drew myself being a teacher.
"I never knew either...I'm wondering if that contributes to my lack of career direction now."
I don't think I have ever had someone else tell me they didn't know what they wanted to be as a kid either. (Evidence that we were meant to be best friends? I think so.) And I think her connection is fair. It's hard to pick a direction when you never really had one.
We ended up talking about how odd it seems to still not know what we want to be when we grow up. In stark contrast to ourselves, we both grew up with a lot of friends who knew exactly what they wanted to do with their lives. They wanted to be teachers and doctors and nurses. And, guess what, now they are teachers and doctors and nurses, or at least in school to be these things. For Audrey, this was causing some panic and concern about her lack of direction, things that I am very familiar with. But my reaction when I consider the disparity between these people with a life plan and myself is quite a bit different now. I've come to love my plan-less state.
I wish it was easier to explain this to other people, those plan-loving people I'm related to and friends with and meet at the bar. I suppose though, that they can just be concerned and panicked and stressed for me about my apparent lack of direction. It means there is no reason for me to be.
...and I can't tell you...yet.
from "Fontanelles"
Anne Michaels
The chemistry of looking;
to look until the river
swallows us, until the redness
of the stone fills our veins.
To look until we're
seen. But this is only longing.
We leave our heat shadows
in moss shocked with frost.
Even your camera
sees more; the detail you crave.
We strain to see even
what the camera sees,
what the eye can't; and this is as good
as a philosophy. An embrace
of failure, as if
just once, impossibly,
we'll catch the visible reflection
of what's invisible.
Our white breath in the dark.
How to photograph this,
the dark when one has said
too much. The dark of
sudden feeling. Love's
darkness.
Here's where the new blog name comes from. It's no secret that I seriously love Anne Michaels' work. She's one of the authors I am dealing with in my thesis. If I take a PhD, she will be one of the authors I deal with in my dissertation. So, it seems appropriate to select a phrase from one of her poems to define this blog. The ache, the longing, contained in this passage are the perfect description of how I feel about photography.
"You look totally knackered." That's how I was greeted by a prof one morning last week. Granted, I was exhausted, but that's just never the first thing you want to hear in the morning. Yup, the stress and exhaustion are starting to show themselves. I haven't quite gotten to the crazy-eye stage yet (if you were an English major with me at King's you probably know what I'm talking about), but I'm pretty sure I'll be there in a couple of weeks. There are definite physical manifestations going on though. Serious headaches, eye twitches, serious shoulder and back pain, unfinished sentences, random crying jags, and increased sarcasm have all begun to make regular appearances. Such fun. (Yeah, that would be the sarcasm talking.)
I took this photo on my sojourn to Waterfront Park, before I started throwing rocks in the mud. As I was standing there taking photos a guy who was walking his dog came up to me and, with no preamble, said "Once you've seen one mud flat haven't you seen them all?" I explained I was taking a photo of these bolts and we laughed about it, but I didn't explain that I had indeed just spent the last 15 minutes of the mud flats. Who would have guessed that wandering down to the mud flats would garner so many stories?
This little exchange left me thinking. How often do people see me taking photos and think I'm totally crazy? Even I occasionally think I must look crazy. I enjoy looking at things in new and different ways that others might not see. If this makes me a little crazy at times, then so be it. Especially if the result is a shot like this one.
I am a rather odd creature. By and large, I'm a creature of habit. I tend to eat the same things, wear the same colours and style, and go to the same coffee shops. I like routine and knowing where I'm going next. And I get attached to things. Usually for aesthetic reasons; if I like how something looks a certain way then I am unlikely to change it. Once I get an outfit a way I really like I don't tend to change things up too much. Once I find a wall colour I like, I want every wall to be that colour. Once I find a meal I love, I eat it all the time. But there are some things that I get bored by easily. I think it's particularly true of things that don't please me visually. My hair is often the victim of this boredom. This blog seems to be another. I just haven't found a really awesome design for it yet, so I keep changing it. Ah well. At least it is more easily fixed than my hair if it turns out horribly. And sometimes a little change is good.
