#334: A PHOTOGRAPHIC BREAK FOR THE EMOTIONALLY WEARY
This new honesty thing about gender dysphoria and pansexuality is exhilarating, terrifying, gratifying, painful, heartwarming, and alienating, and I need a break. Either that, or I have to accept my deepening relationship with red wine. So today, I am taking a break from my previous two entries to dish out some new photographs.
I found a roll of film in the bottom of my bag, and because I neglect to label my film when I change rolls, I had no idea how long it had been hanging around. I think this is less about being disorganized and more about liking the excitement of picking up mystery photographs at the drugstore. It turned out that it was one of my more recent rolls from before I diddled my camera, so I was thrilled to have photographs to go through despite the sad state of my equipment. All of the following photographs were taken on the same afternoon sometime in July.
This first photograph is of a fabulous five-year-old girl that I have become friends with over the last couple of months. That look she has on her face is the one she puts on just before she hits on the next thing she can do or say to embarrass her father.
Shortly after I took the previous photograph, she asked me to take a picture of her dad, and just when I had it framed the way I wanted, she popped up from behind him.
The following picture is of a guy that lives in the building the Fiery One and I just moved out of. He also used to be married to a woman who was one of my superiors two jobs ago. He also knows a surprising number of the people I know. That's a lot of involvement for one acquaintance.
These two fellows are not very recognizable in this photograph. I sort of got Cicero's chest in focus and nothing else, but I like the effect nonetheless. They were both in the process of bending over for entirely unrelated reasons at that moment.
And finally, we have the Fiery One. Look at how his head carries with it an inky thought cloud so dense that it obscures everything above his eyebrows. This is how it is to be the producer of a television series that does reenactments of nautical disasters at nine frames per second in the middle of the prairies.
May Thursday treat you well and not come back to bite you in the ass. Red wine, anyone?