I’m feeling nostolgic about how I used to communicate with far-away friends.
Also, I’m dreaming about writing a book based on correspondence. Letters. But would people actually be interested in reading letters written back and forth from two homeschooling mothers twenty years apart in age . . . ?
The girls are helping me to create a photo for a friend who is working on a poster for a lecture about “Resolving Conflict.” As we are experimenting with silhouettes and expressions, I realize how much simpler it is to depict “conflict” than it is to depict “resolving conflict.” I’m pondering this as I edit the photos and send them off.
The following morning, the photos I have sent cause a conflict which follows me around the whole day. And I am left considering layers and layers of conflict.
I’m making soup: chopping onions, garlic, carrots, parsley. He is right next to me on a chair, up at the counter, putting baby potatoes into a bowl, transferring them into another bowl — back and forth — and stirring them with a wooden spoon. He adds sprigs of parsley, saying “chop, chop, chop” in his deep, confident voice. This little kitchen work keeps him occupied for many minutes. I finish putting everything into the soup pot and am surprised to see that he is still happily busy with his potatoes and parsley.
One thing I like most about doing a daily photo project is how I’ve begun to recognize the ebb and flow of creative energy. I’ll often have a particularly inspiring photography session — a burst of ideas — just after a dull-feeling day or series of days.
Yes, it’s bedtime. We’re still here, on the beach.