Adventure

Hello...is anybody out there?

Here's that other cameo appearance I promised you. Although, I really shouldn't be making cameo appearances in my own blog.

Well, it's been over a year since I genuinely blogged. It seems like there was nothing interesting in that entire time to blog about. I'm pretty sure there was something interesting that happened, but I can't remember any of it right now. 

What I do remember is this, my password. Thank God! Otherwise, the world would have been deprived of my witty writings. (Hello? Is this mic on?)

Very well, moving on to my adventure. 

I was getting ready to write a story the other day on this old typewriter I found. I stared at it, and I could feel inspiration flowing into me. From the round keys, to the distressed black metal body, this typewriter spoke to me. It said, "Touch me." I said, "OK." So I did. I touched it. I closed my eyes and I saw myself hammering away at the keys, typing page after page, chapter after chapter, keeping rhythm with the ding as I reached the end of each line. This story simply flowed smoothly without any hitches onto the delicate parchment paper.

As I stopped to admire my masterpiece of a story, I noticed that there were no spaces between the words. Upon closer inspection, I realized there wasn't even any words on there, just letters. Just random letters like you find when someone is pretending to be typing and actually isn't. Like this, 

"bjkdjafjeorngdknoerldkndasdfoigjeorjgkdprogrieo."

That's when I woke up! (Although, I really wasn't asleep, just daydreaming.) I realized that I am not a writer. My fingers were hurting from typing too fast in my daydream. My head is hurting just now from using all these big fancy words, like "big" and "fancy," trying to describe this dream I had.

Let's not even mention the fact that I am a slow reader, and a slow typist. If I could type as fast as I can delete, I could be a...uhm...a person who types fast. My dream as an Olympic typist was shattered when I took Typing 101 in high school. Then my heart was shattered by the only blonde at that school. (But that's a whole different story.) This is why I drink. It's also why I prefer books with more pictures than words in them.

Seriously, these pics are from a photo shoot/lesson I did several days back. I think she is rather talented. Mechanical skills can be mastered. Rules and principles can be taught. An artistic eye can be finely tuned, IF you have it. She has an artistic eye. (I much more prefer that one over the dreadful "Evil" eye).

Here are a couple pictures of her. She goes by the name, "Wilson."

Look at that technique.

A street photography shot of her taking a street photography shot.

We had gone to Deep Ellum in Dallas to shoot whatever we wanted. These are some of her photos that I favor.

I like this one NOT because it's of me, but because...um, yeah, it's because it's of me.

Awesome DOF 

Captivating lens flare

The scene of the crime

The blurriness creates a feeling of vertigo.

Like Yoda said, "Yodel lay hee hoo!" I sense the force is strong with this young Padawan. Well, may the force be with you. And hasta la vista, baby.

I'll try not to be a stranger.

BLAHG you later!