yeah, it's all about me
Those who hate you don't win unless you hate them back; and then you destroy yourself.
The garden runs right along the sidewalk. It even has an arched entranceway in the middle. The garden is always in bloom with something. I love it, as it constantly changes.
Today I noticed some of the roses were wet. Obviously recently watered, as we haven't seen rain for a few days. I stopped and admired them, in the very strange head-bobbing and weaving around and peering at odd angles way I have of sizing up a flower I might photograph. I didn't see anything too intriguing. As I turned to go, I took a drag off my cigarette (I know!) and the ash flew off as a single half-inch long unit. Anyone who smokes must know what I mean. It sailed through the air and landed in the dirt of the garden. I thought no more of it, took two steps and noticed the person on the deck watching me. I smiled.
She made a remark which I didn't catch but it ended with, "... whatever you did to my flowers!"
I could tell by the tone of voice she was angry. Using the same tone and quite defensive and loud, I said, "I didn't do ANYTHING to your flowers!"
"Oh, well whatever," as she brushed me off with her hand, "Have a good day."
Whoa1. I held up my smoke and said, "A little bit of ash fell off my smoke, it's not going to hurt anything.", somewhat less hostile but still defensive in tone.
"Oh, well whatever." She brushed me off with her hand, twice.
Whoa2&3. Now I'm getting irritated but pleasantly said, in all sincerity, "I would never do anything to your flowers," adding, "I love your flowers!"
"Oh, well whatever." She brushed me off with her hand, again.
"Fuck You, Bitch," I only thought. I kept walking and said nothing though.
However, the seeds of anger had taken hold and fed off themselves as they analyzed the situation over and over and over until it built into a tangible mood that dominated my mind, in spite of every effort to dispense with it. By the time I was about fifteen minutes into it, I had resolved to go by sometime and actually trash her flowers. Yeah, that's it, I'll go back there, at night sometime, and rip up every flower she has and leave them on her porch. That will teach her to be rude to ME.
It was about this time I realized things had escalated too far. I had to get past this anger. Let it go, Let it go, I heard my brain say, as the voice on the angry side said fuck you, never mind, pissed off is how I am, like it or not.
When I put myself in her shoes and tried to see it as she did, I saw a strange man doing some funny voodoo dance around my flowers and then he tossed something into the garden. I got mad and said something accusatory, then realized I was wrong. He was only admiring my flowers but I had no recourse except to hide my embarrassment behind a brush off with my hand.
Okay that's all well and good and has dissipated most of the anger. Now though, what is it in the brush off of the hand that so irritated me. It's the implication and attitude that I am worthless, ME worthless!
That's when I remembered, Ha, of course, but I am worthless, so don't let it bother you. And it was gone.
I am nothing - I am empty - I am silent
I would have pulled aside the stem piece that is out of focus in this shot if I dared touch anyone's flower after the last incident.
These look like dandelions right from the start but they have more class somehow. Their fluff balls too appear as intricately woven strands of gold alive in sunshine.
These little flowers with their corn cob centers are very cool. Hard to get in focus though.
This moth stayed in the same place for hours. I walked past it about four times before finally deciding to shoot it. It never blinked the whole time. Mesmerized by the light.
Allowing the lines to build the balance and trying to find sense in the distribution of the seeds of imagination the full effect takes place after one decides what it means.
All of a sudden it was like New York City had rolled into Canada! Given the opportunity to visually record a cliché, I did, only I don't know which cliché it is. Oh well, how about, I love all my American friends! Happy Fourth of July.
Defined by nothing more than a series of coloured circles surrounding another the star still stands out from the crowd.
Self explanatory. Except I had to explain to my daughter what the joke was. She had never heard of an 'anus'. I think she understood.