morning thursday pdf

I do hope that my digital camera re-surfaces soon. Time to take another sip of tea. How many does that make now? All of the images and video clips taken over two weeks in Europe were in that camera and its little storage pouch. Three memory cards totaling 7 gigs of information. I hope Camille recovers it from her car. Otherwise, it will be official: the gods are conspiring against me to erase all memory of my existence, both visual and literary, from this earth's historical record. What terrible luck! Is luck involved, to inquire frankly? Bad luck's cards could be in play here. Misfortune, misadventure, mistakes. Something is clearly missing. It's my brain, that much is certain. I can only place the blame squarely on my own head. More accurately, the absence of it. Such is my life, after all is said and done. Such as it is. I am cloaked in abusive forgetfulness. Yet I am mere mortal, truth be told. That's encouraging, at least, for the moment. Until the tea runs dry, until I'm fully resigned, forced to fill the silence with music and chocolate.

A friend informed me that I have blogged only once this entire year. This entry makes it two. He obligated me to do something about that dismal stat. Only once, and here it's almost November. The month of ill writings, the month of coughing and nose-blowing. A phlegmatic month. He sent me an e-mail linking up to a blog he recently started, so I checked it out and was both very impressed by the quality of writing and mildly disappointed by its content. The discussion was about film-making, cinematography, and camera work, all interesting and informative material, mind you. Some reflex in me, oddly enough when I reflect on it, somehow assumes personal blogs to be precisely that-personal. Intimate, self-conscious, revelatory. I must be crossing blogs with journals and diaries in my thoughts. Granted, I'll be returning to the blog soon enough and have another go at reading it, this time more thoroughly. That is, more ponderously and with a clear head and strong cup of coffee. In the morning, additionally. I like blogs. Every once in a while, writing one or two might just be the difference, that inch or two of relief, that every sentient being needs. The line is nearly always attainable, within reason.