(Professional Liberal second, I think. Or so I’d guess from the pictures I took today. Must have been smoking crack.)

I went down to The Lake this morning to take pictures. I’m running out of unscheduled time, so I set this appointment with myself a couple of days ago. I’m ambling along down by the boat launch, listening to these old guys launching a pontoon, when the one stumbles over a cleat. One of the others laughed, so he had to make a disparaging remark about himself, looking at me. I just told him it’s not like anything like that ever happens to me. He laughed. It was okay.

I only got two or three images out of 65. I guess that’s about right. Plus my camera is insane and thinks everything is orange. I suppose there is something I could do about it. I think Satur – nope, maybe Sunday I’ll have time. Maybe. Anyway.

One of the two or three.

But! the reason I must be a photographer first is; to take this picture I had to climb across some rocks – you now, the flat, secure, no sharp edges sticking out kinds of rocks public works people put out along shorelines so people won’t hurt themselves too much being stupid? I got out to take the picture fine. Climbing back, not so much.

It all went so fast after that. I remember thinking, “Gee I wish I had something to hang on to,” and then “CAMERA!” It worked out fine. Pulling the camera up and away from the impact got me landing on a roll on my back. I scuffed my elbow a little. I was kind of wishing that old guy was nearby, so he could feel better. But The Camera is fine.

I am proud. I am my parent’s daughter.

Left-handed, camera upside down, in the mirror.

And. Ten thousand pictures on this camera.