The last two weeks have been…off.
The weather’s changed drastically now, and it hurts my hands at night when I don’t have warm pockets or gloves. I’ve been delinquent on Crum walks because of the cold, and on taking pictures because the shutter in my camera failed. Although I have a camera out from SCCS on loan, I haven’t been using it much. It doesn’t feel like mine–it isn’t mine–and using the unfamiliar machine makes me feel awkward. (Not to sound like a weirdo or anything, but using this SCCS camera kind of feels like going on a date with someone when your heart’s just not in it, because you’re not quite over your last break-up yet.)
I’ve been noticing the colors on the trees fading away every couple of days, but they’ve stayed on for much longer than they have in previous years. I was surprised to see a few blossoms still looking quite brilliant in the rose garden today. There are fewer and fewer squirrels running around now, and the one who are still fumbling out in the cold look like they’re ready for some hibernation time, or just hideaway-from-the-cold time.
(I wish I could hibernate with them. My body certainly feels like it needs to sink into a bed for a month.)
But maybe the most beautiful thing about this season is how, since the sun sets so early in the day now, I see these fantastic skies every evening–purple blues, reddish pink, orange and bronze, yellow clouds catching on fire. I think I should get a picture of that soon.
As for my reflection-in-retrospect…I look back on my digital stories and am satisfied with and somewhat saddened by their open-endedness, their lack of conclusions, their searching for—, their waiting for—. I’m interested in and troubled by their quiet urgency; the sense that there is a patience quickly running out of time; the sense that there is a question seeking an answer–one that obviously exists but does not want to show itself. I think the use of soundtrack makes this waiting less haunting, less isolated, because it gives my voice a support. But I think the vulnerability that comes from this un-knowing is best conveyed without a soundtrack. So in a way, I like my first piece the most, because it was the most immediate, and the most personal. As a future goal, I hope that I will learn more about the techniques in Final Cut so that I can manipulate the images more effectively to let the picture speak as a story on its own.