Saturday, August 17, 2019

A murder of crows

I took pictures last night but they are still in the camera and I am on the couch and do not wish to be disturbed with a task. My life has become attuned to the workweek needs and freedoms. I drank 3 or 4 glasses of wine last night and now this morning I have a sudden urge to go do something with this weekend. I feel it almost every weekend but it usually passes without incident. 

So, now that I have proven I am also a great still-life photographer, what else is there? 

Imagine being Robert Mapplethorpe's muse. Not for the flowers, the other stuff. Patti Smith did a good job describing some of his darker impulses and expressions in her book, Just Kids. There is so much that is inhibited or repressed within the human psyche. I am reminded of it any time I hear someone espousing support for people just being and expressing their truest selves. It is certainly not what they could mean. Or, only so if they have no inkling what lurks in the crazed and corkscrewed heart of man. Everywhere there is chaos and terror seeking a way out, seeking form.