What do you see? I see a moment in which I hurt someone, unintentionally. Twice on this trip I was the jerk with the camera. Either you get better at being or not being the jerk with the camera, or you put the camera down. Hopefully the middle one. Which is the hardest.
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The same every spring. Months I deceive myself into the cloud of the big blue chair, I make allowances until it is my favorite, until the pit at the bottom is stuffed with pillows which the chair eats and eats, until my back is screaming: no more blue smoke, no more: and I groan to get out of bed, to walk up and down stairs, to go to and fro upon the earth carrying my own weight. Only months of long slow hard hot runs through the desert will fix this. And still I have a month to go before I get there (I say from my hollowed chair).
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