This is maybe a bad idea

making fever dream mistakes, in public.

I had the images for this post mostly together before. They may feel different. Long time followers might reasonably argue they feel more like what they expect from me.

fair enough.

I’m being ravaged by our good ol’ spikey headed friend right now. the one that’s airborne, but not, exists but doesn’t. you know.

third time is the charm.

I had a bunch of writing done about the flow of time, how we can alter how it feels, how we can manipulate the speed at which it passes then, well, i got sick. And given how many words I’ve had to retype just now—it’s probably best to leave those words for another post.

What I do want to say, before sharing a sense of September with you, and it could well be just fever induced, dragging my corpse around trying to cope style thinking but something I’ve been fixated on this past couple weeks since my last post—which, literally feels a thousand thousand years ago—is simplicity.

I long so deeply to be free of my own whims. To be able to settle on something and stick to it. To trade the possibility of Raw photos for the finished, ready to post simplicity of jpgs. The idea that you could make some pictures and not still be editing them 10 years later seems like a sort of heaven to me.

I am tired. of rehashing the past. of laboring against my own inability to just accept something is done, and realized its full potential—which often times means it never had a lot to begin with.

I’m tired of over-reaching. over working. over trying. Tired of wondering what is around that corner. even if I have a toque that says “what’s down that road”.

I’ve written previously about the emotional weight of 20+ years of photos, of wanting them to mean something more than they do and maybe being dog sick, and tired, and crawling into a missed fall, with the door of september closing without me having been able to get out there and meet it has me in a sort of mood.

i’m not known for my self censoring. for good or bad.

So these may feel less.. refined. less fine art. less something. but they for the moment felt like I feel when I’m out there and the air is cool, the sun sets all too early, harvest dust covers everything and we dance around the long coming winter in our minds.

we’ll figure out when the fever breaks if I should have made a post.

see you kids in october.