The good news is, I completed the 26 Things scavenger hunt. The bad news is, it's all on one page weighing in at 1.5Mb so I apologise to those on dialup, but it might be worth the time it takes to download.
Opens 26Things photos in a new window.
26 things at Buzznet (might be a little friendlier for dialup connections)
Other entries can be viewed via these pages.
A huge thank you to Tracey for her time and ideas for projects.
Read MoreWhen I fall in love.. it will be.. completely
I read this and now I think I'm in love. Well, of crush anyway. In my eternal quest to fall in love with every hetrosexual male on the internet, I stumbled into Lost Pilgrim after slinking over fishboy>sarah>caribou [all fantastic sites] to linger at the site that I have dedicated my morning to.
Meanwhile - Photo Friday's theme is Clouds, which I couldn't photograph on Friday because my theme/email arrived after the sun set and now the sun is up but I haven't done it yet because I'm still in bed with the lostpilgrim *see above*. It's all kind of annoying because the actually *attraction* of such a thing as Photo Friday is that it is done and posted ON Friday. I'm not much interested in slurking around for a week to find THE perfect picture - hell, anyone can do *that*.
You have to have deadlines people. Like 26 Things - a list + a deadline = the fun of PRESSURE and the highs and lows of any project whether it be 30 days or 24 hours or the next 30 minutes. Not this rambling sort of <Voice ="Neil from the Young Ones">oh anytime you like in the next week it's okay</Voice>.
I want the anxious wait for the start, the mental preperation. The thrill as the project starts and the rush as the planning and brainstorming take place and I realise I can take hold of this beautiful beast-of-an-idea and make it my own. The adrenaline induced frantic eye movements looking for the perfect shot/scene/frame/metaphor. The sharp pang of panic when I forgot what I am doing and wander off to read some of the interweb or colour-in some pictures and now I'm behind.
The feverish self flagellation when I remember how much I hate deadline driven projects because they show up all my faults and shortcomings but not this one, not THIS time. With a renewed sense of purpose and drive but with the same sack full of tattered talents and skanky skills the task still seems feasible, if only I don't eat/sleep/do-any-thing-else between now and when it's due.
Cresting the moment of deciding to present what I have because, quite frankly, it's all I've got and I'm exhausted and I suck and no one cares anyway and my house is a mess and my batteries are almost flat and I vow I will never, ever, do this again, ever - I post my picture/submit my painting/send my project and fall into bed hoping for sleep perchance to dream to find I've consummed so much coffee and I'm so depressed I can't actually find that place where my mind shuts down and stores and reorders my thoughts and memories and lessons-learned and I lay in my bed with the soundtrack of "Why You Suck You Stupid Bitch: The Musical" playing over and over and over.
After a while the memories fade to soften themselves into nostalgia. I eventurally look at my work with a fondness and an uneasy sense of something else I can't quite remember so I forget. I forget. And all I remember when my photoFriday email/sh1ft.org newsletter/nanowrimo prompt comes by is "oh yeh, I LOVE doing these things!
Read MoreAliens and Ferris Wheels
I had two widescreen technocolour dreams last night. The first was a thriller, the second was science fiction. In the thriller I was a boy, and in a ferris wheel carriage with someone I knew to be the baddie, but knew the baddie didn't know I knew he was the baddie. But then it all went to custard when he tipped the both of us out of the ferris wheel carriage at the top of the ride. The baddie was holding onto a chain and was kindof tied to the carriage as well so was in little danger of falling (he'd planned it you see) and all i had to hold onto was fishing nylon - and I knew I couldn't hold it for long!! I knew someone was coming to help because I'd confided my suspicions to this person I just had to hold on long enough. The baddie still didn't know I knew he was a baddie before he turfed me out of the carriage and so had no clue help was coming. But help was taking a very long time. |