Friday, December 1, 2017

For the Record


I no longer know what this blog is supposed to be. Aside from the academic exercise of writing and the exposition of ubiquitous photography, there's not much else to it. I have no life! The muse has gone. I surely don't want it to be a series of complaints about a boring existence. I am living on a very fixed and small income, just enough to survive, which is all I require. Hence there's probably a great need for the benefit of human interaction, of which there is absolutely none. It's driven home again as I sit in the neighborhood coffee place full of strangers or people I've seen over the years who couldn't be bothered with the most basic courtesies.

Meanwhile, they're playing Christmas muzak (for the past several weeks) which is rendered utterly meaningless. I'll bet the royalties are less costly! Frankly, it's annoying. Yet I have to come here to get online. And what's that but a cascade of farce. These petroglyphs are telling a story too. I'm sure there is an expert somewhere who can decipher it. I can't get past feeling, as desirous of 'news' as the next fellow, when I surf the Internet, it's all a sucker's game. A virtual connection to something happening somewhere as there's nothing happening here!

I would that I could come up with some sort of a project,
un raison d'être as it were. The most renowned blog (not that this is the aim) as far as I know was by a woman whose goal was to cook every recipe in Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. I saw the film, have never looked at the blog. LOL. It was funny too that, as the woman neared completion, followers made overtures to Julia to acknowledge and connect with the blogger, which she refused to do. Well, evidently her husband had a problem with it too! I'd love to meet a woman like this.

Can't think of a thing along this line. Years ago, in one of the NYC tabloids, there was a daily feature called The Inquiring Photographer. Some general interest question was asked and a picture taken, the photo and the response published. On the up and up - wasn't used to make people look foolish like the Leno person-in-the-street queries exposing their ignorance. That could get interesting and give the opportunity to do portraits, but the hurdles are complicated. People surely don't want to have something published which might come back to bite them. I'm just imagining. Don't think about monetizing the effort, which places everything in another dimension.

As it is, there are perhaps ten people who read this blog. None declare themselves to be 'followers' LOL but it's a very curious thing to me. I make so many complaints about being solitary yet no one connects. Very curious. I don't know what to make of it. I don't know how to proceed. The only motivation is the desire to write. I've no interest in fiction. Please God I have more of a life, as they say.

Today is Friday. Formerly, recently, I might have gone to a Happy Hour at a local pub where I was smitten of a staff member, shall we say, but I was never comfortable there and, yes, wished I could have gotten to know that person in different circumstances. It's taken me a while to get over that unfounded infatuation. I can't imagine her at church, so let that go. There's to be no Happy Hour today, anywhere. Not interested. But Christians have no alternative. I suppose the circumstance is predicated by most such people having families. I really do feel empathy for people who go to bars for human involvement, to see their erstwhile friends, to celebrate getting through another tedious week. But it caused me to have conflicts which came to a head when one of the yobs intruded upon my entirely solipsistic perception of the moment. (Get thee behind me.) I was such a fool.

So, for the record, absolutely nothing happening.
I haven't got much time left in my life. Hoping for a miracle?

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