Dormant – More than a Winter Season

As a journaling exercise I might look to today’s events or surroundings to see what, if any, forgotten life themes are lurking deep within. I’d open my attention to that thing in my day that draws attention and focus, and, I’d work backward through steppingstones to those places and times in which this thing has been a part of me. I’d work to open-out its meaning for me then and now. Life’s bad and good needs its work as part of one’s psychological hygiene – decluttering what no longer works and what no longer has meaning and working to open-out perception, thinking and those possibilities which surround me. There’s work there.  And, there’s possibility to surface, investigate and realize.

My bike.

My bike has been dormant for more than this winter. Working to capacity (and then some), a busy year has seen me reach my fiftieth year milestone.  The life tasks now seem to be about serving others and limiting the possibility of mistakes; perhaps knowing how to limit mistakes and seeing this as a goal is one attribute of being in my prime. But, still Life doesn’t seem entirely configured to suit or fit all that I’d like each of my days to contain. I’m attending to an aging parent with mid-stage Alzheimer’s Disease at the same time that my wife and I are aiming to establish my son in his year one of university. And, then, I’ve chosen to investigate and develop my photographic competencies – these practices hold their share of sitting and time.

My bike tonight has been the subject of a photograph, a work of art in still-life, a much different perspective than that of an active cyclist who is inseparable from that bike upon which he investigates the world. My bike and my desire to ride are dormant tonight.

Listening to Stolen Car by Patty Griffin from 1000 Kisses; Long Ride Home, from the Elizabethtown soundtrack is where Patty Griffin caught my ear. Later, Acoustic Guitar magazine featured an interview and tabs to one of her songs – good schtuff!

Quote to Inspire – “… to stop rushing around, to sit quietly on the grass, to switch off the world and come back to Earth, to allow the eye to see a willow, a bush, a cloud, a leaf, is an ‘unforgettable experience.’” ~ Frederick Franck, The Zen of Seeing  (p.s. – the battle of any photographer is to discard Life’s presses and to calm one’s spirit enough to be able to see that which is in front of us; right? I’m there, too)

Thank you all for stopping by, the likes and comments.

Take good care of your good selves!