.415 still life

the earlier you can catch the natural light (sunrise), coupled with the DIY softbox, makes for a cleaner overall image. finally. an expensive and natural way to produce the images i see in my mind when taking stills. another benefit of early morning risings, especially when you have a toddler, is the calm and quiet that exist in that hour (this is also a good time for vlogging, with no boom mic needed, as the world is, typically, at it's quietest).  

however, if my toddler happens to be awake when i shoot, i simply bribe her with whatever i'm shooting. have a strawberry. play in the milk (as she doesn't drink cow milk). turn the whisk into a wind. eat the fortune cookie, then stuff the fortune inside your slipper for you to marvel at later. wear the slap watch. make up stories as you pretend to read. have a ball (just have it a little over there). i find that it's much easier to submit, just a bit, than having to say "no", "don't touch", "please, toots, not in my light" every other minute, for in the end, she's happy, i'm happy and life is good.

i retook the picture of the stopwatch to get better lighting this time.

.291 day 262

things didn't start going awry until i start letting people move beyond the point where i generally turn them all away.

(loners don't keep love. we find it and hold it with a barely there grasp)

i don't do hurt well. i don't do lost well. but what i do, do well...is seclusion.

everything happens for a reason. i birthed an aquarian. the only child that i will ever have.

sometimes i tire of optimism. but then what? 

"but then what" keeps me going. it always has.

but...then...what?

none of my thoughts make sense tonight.

(god favors babies and fools)

as a child, i use to watch plastic bags blowing in the wind. would follow them until they reached a point i could not venture to, then imagined all of the people that they passed, all of the places that they traveled to, obsessed on where their destiny ended. i presently do the same with balloons that float beyond the clouds, both, envying and pitying their freedom. there they go, i think, soaring to heights man can never reach without tools, only to die the moment they're out of the atmosphere (cause life is morbidly ironic like that)...