cloudminders

Page Sixty-seven

wednesday 21 July 2010 turners faltering

I've said in other places on my online journals, which are still all being inter-linked to form one website, that since my animals were taken in an illegal eviction more than two years ago, I can no longer pursue many of the interests that were an ongoing part of my life as I previously knew it.

One of those interests was photography. But now, aside from pictures of my guinea pig or animals outdoors, I no longer take pictures, and certainly not what I used to refer to as my "artsy" ones.

The two things I was most driven to photograph -- and I mean driven -- were water, and the sky (which is just more water). Water as liquid, as ice, as snow, as mist. Nothing but animals fascinates me more than the way different qualities of light act on water in all its forms. So...

In 1998 I became friendly with a woman who owned a bookstore and had me as a part-timer there. We didn't know each other terribly well yet, but were spending a lot of time together. One evening in summer we went to supper at a place that had outside picnic tables (I had my dog and one of my rabbits with me), and when our order was called, I went to get it. I'm returning to the table and I see Elizabeth pointing a camera up towards the sky. Do you take pictures of clouds?, I ask her, and she looks immediately both embarrassed and guilty. Well, sometimes,, she says in a meek little voice. And I tell her no, no embarrassment, that I take pictures of clouds too, but I've never seen anyone else do it, and I'm really pleased that she does too. It was, at the time, just another odd thing that made me believe that Elizabeth and I should be friends for life.

I'm sad that in the end, we did not stay friends for life, but it wasn't for lack of me wanting it. I still miss her. And of the many things we had in common, cloudminding was the one that surprised me the most.

I can't put one of my cloud pictures here, as they are all locked up in storage waiting for the day (if such a day ever comes) that I live again in a real apartment, rather than a ponystall.

read... Braonwandering... Being toward death...

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