my careless contagion

In photography, trends come and go. When I was still taking photos, I was taught to have the sun behind me, but that causes some problems for the subject. If the subject is people, often they are squinting into the sun. If you can place them in the shade, then you have harsh shadows. If the day is overcast, then that produces other problems. A recent trend is to shoot into the sun, often with it producing a flare behind the subject, illuminating them from behind. That's all well and good, but often the subject is partially hidden by shadows and partially blown out by bright light. And then there is bokeh, the near-circles that splatter the photo, which is how the lens shows things that are out of focus, which is a pretty cool effect. As with everything, too much of a good thing can sometimes be a bad thing.  This is where I point out the similarity with my life. Much of my life has been — though lived fully — out of focus. It's there. I know I experienced it. But I can...

Ah, summer. I used to know a girl named Summer, but this isn't about her. This is about the season (though if summer had a gender, it would be female). Where I live, summer does not last long. My joke is that it ended July 4, and then begins the slide toward fall, my favorite season. Basically, it lasts about six weeks, but no calendar will tell you that. Still, summer has such lovely qualities, and this summer has been especially long and summery. Here in the Black Hills, summer is tourist season, but even those who live here can celebrate its specialness. People come here to recreate in a place that isn't so scorchingly hot. It's true. Many homes here don't even have air conditioning because it cools off enough at night they can simply open their windows for cool sleeping and then close them again in the morning to keep their homes cool during the day. (Naturally, I am the exception to the rule because I have a small air conditioner for my tiny apartment, mainly be...

Lewis Carroll photographed with a bevy of young children. Lewis Carroll is the pen name of a man named Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, known most for writing Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass . He died in 1898, so why is he still relevant? Is what he wrote that important? What is his legacy? Unfortunately, his legacy is a dark one.  This is not going to be an exhaustive account of the man's legacy. It is simply my thoughts on why he is still relevant today. Much has been written about the man and his legacy, and I don't intend to add another tome. However, as I was watching a movie last night (considered a horror film, which wasn't scary), this man's legacy reared its ugly head yet again. In the film, there was a ghost by the name of Alice, and her father's ghost's name was Henry. This was too much of a coincidence. As anyone who knows anything about Carroll and his Alice in Wonderland, there was a real-life girl named Alice. A...

  Cindy, Please come back into my life. I miss you and don't want to experience another day without you. I come to you in all humility and sincerity. Do with me what you will. I am in love with every part of you, even the parts no one else sees. Or, perhaps, because no one else sees. You are a woman beyond even my stratospheric dreams. You are the best mother I've ever seen. You hide things in your heart and think no one else knows. But I know. Your heart is too big to conceal. Your love is bigger than any obstacle. I wish you could tell me how to be with you, how to approach you, how to talk to you, love you, look at you. With a woman like you, there is no instruction manual. You are off the charts amazing, and I am dumbfounded by how to even approach you.  It feels like I'm drowning when you're not here. I've been drowning for a long time. I want to hold you, feel you, take your warmth as my own. I have starved without you, without your w...

So I'm back (sigh). I tucked in my tail and returned, just as I did when I quit my job recently. I did that at least two other times before, actually. I know what it is that makes me do that. It is the reason I can't stay here. The common denominator in those events is my parents. But I digress. People talk about the state of mind of someone who did something crazy like that actually matters. Our minds are seen as the pilots of our vessels. Well, I think my pilot jumped out. Without a parachute. "Good riddance," he said. Splat. An old Kenny Rogers (rest in peace) song called Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In) explains that sometimes when we take a moment to check on ourselves, we find things have turned into a dumpster fire of epic proportions. That's definitely the case with me. I apologize for some of the alarming things I've written lately, but you really wouldn't believe how bad my life has become in a short amount of ...

I think all men (perhaps especially those employed as spies) desire at least one person with whom they feel they can share anything. This blog has fulfilled that role in my life and has become, in effect, my mistress (because, unfortunately, I cannot marry her, as she is not a real person but, rather, a one-way forum for dispensing my thoughts and feelings). But the time has come to kiss her sweet mouth — that never uttered a word — goodbye. She heard much, but she never told a soul. If I was a spy, I would keep coming back to her. The purpose of this blog was to help me deal with my divorce. I started it days before my divorce was finalized in 2018. Unfortunately, since then, my life has overwhelmed me in an unexpected and disgraceful way. I held onto two things during the most difficult days: the love I had for a woman named Cindy and walking with God. But, today, I am not in a healthy place. I'm not where I wanted to be when I ended this blog. I contemplate suicide ever...