Lost but found: infinity ring. Photo app: YouCam Perfect
The case of the infinity ring. Had it on my finger during yesterday’s dog walk and didn’t realize I couldn’t remember its last whereabouts until later that evening. The sun had already set before I wondered: Could it have slipped off my finger during the walk? It’s so cold every bone feels like it’s shrinking, turning whiter and whiter into itself. Past the warmth of the marrow and out the back again.
This morning’s coffee conversations included: have you seen my ring? Counter challenges involved: did you check your gloves? Then this morning’s walk where I thought: Maybe it will turn up. And did. Right there, in a rather unlikely place, nowhere near the drama points of impact, in fact. Just a harmless bit where I remember thinking: Good, I am almost home.
“It’s so cold every bone feels like it’s shrinking, turning whiter and whiter into itself.” Tweet this!
The motto of our newsletter is “Say less, do more.” When I received my latest delivery of free photographs from Death to the Stock Photo along with Paul Jarvis‘s writing prompt on making space for creativity, I reflected on my winter morning experiences. These days, I’m stepping into the snowy East Coast climate, sometime pre-dawn, and the world is blanketed with white. White covers the ground and the trees and even the sky. I’m promising myself I’ll remember the true melody of non-existent harmony, lost in the steady hum of a singular note. I’m not talking about the occasional crow that inserts himself into the scene, not in body but in his beckoning to another bird that I also cannot see. And I’m not talking about the sound of my own thread-like breath that does show up in a thin stream like the magic of mist over an early-Spring lake. There is no green here, not yet (though I know and you know it’s coming). I’m talking about the one true sound that emanates from pure nothingness, the hollow reverberation that can lead to enlightenment or a trip down crazy lane if force fed through solitary confinement. The writers of the world do this to themselves. Lock away in cabins with no contact. It’s okay. They always seem to come back better off than when they left. I’m certain that’s because even the most standoffish are given time enough to come down from their heights and share stares through a window pane, though certainly nothing more divisive than that. Perhaps even eating out of a hand. Feathers are friendly when given the chance.
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“The motto of our newsletter is “Say less, do more.”
Silver winter nights are custom made for Brooklyn. Bits of metal in the air and the blue light has no edges. Tiny remnants of pine hide out somewhere between unused snow and glimpses of star. Urgency and all-the-time-in-the-world marks the … Continue reading →
I’ve been taking a shine towards iPhone photo apps for that oh-so-professional look, lusting after shots with blurry backgrounds, interesting angles and points of perspective. The impact of visuals on social media is well documented. Pictures tell powerful stories. With the advent of exceptional apps that are exceptionally affordable, if not free, it’s fun and frisky to use our pocket devices to shutterbug and then later, maybe over coffee or waiting for the train, tailor it to look bangin’.
My photos aren’t in the bangin’ category, but I’m having fun working towards that end.