Today I use another old camera, and I can't recall how it was broken or why I quit using it. All masked up and with a fully charged battery, I venture out. I quickly learn the screen on the camera is dead. Not only can I not review my images right away, but I cannot change or see the settings. I resolve to aim the best I can and cross my fingers. That seems to be the way things are right now anyway, uncertainty with a need to still be optimistic. Swimming in a sea of melancholy is tempting, but I would rather float and see where the waves take me. I can tread water if need be.
Bent over a bottle cap I am happy with the simplest of found treasure. I am unaware that a woman has halted her stride to wait for me to take my photo. I apologize and am thankful she has kindly waited. I pick up the pace to give her room only to drop my hand sanitizer and apologize again. I remind myself not to get too lost in the looking. Working alone in an art studio for years has prepared me for this social isolation. Only now, I imagine all other humans are zombies, because humor is necessary solace.
I watch crows eat garbage and attempt to get close. I find the zoom on the camera is also faulty and the birds get wise to my spying. The lookout tells the others of my presence, and I have sadly interrupted their feast. As I return to the sidewalk, from the alley I have entered, I see a policeman hidden beside a building, lurking. I venture on, masked and anonymous.
Bent over a bottle cap I am happy with the simplest of found treasure. I am unaware that a woman has halted her stride to wait for me to take my photo. I apologize and am thankful she has kindly waited. I pick up the pace to give her room only to drop my hand sanitizer and apologize again. I remind myself not to get too lost in the looking. Working alone in an art studio for years has prepared me for this social isolation. Only now, I imagine all other humans are zombies, because humor is necessary solace.
I watch crows eat garbage and attempt to get close. I find the zoom on the camera is also faulty and the birds get wise to my spying. The lookout tells the others of my presence, and I have sadly interrupted their feast. As I return to the sidewalk, from the alley I have entered, I see a policeman hidden beside a building, lurking. I venture on, masked and anonymous.
