the other day,
I sat and pondered at Rodin's Gates of Hell, for a longish bit, then pedaled back home, along the river, into a strong, gusty, headwind home.
It's slipped from my grasp, my inspiration. Not that I've had much directions that I've been headed with the photos I've taken. but, I have had thoughts, impulses, like the tree on Belmont with the full moon.
I headed down town, to take pictures of the Clothes pin, it was surrounded by fence, and a few, snapping it themselves. I ponder, why and what do my photos say?
scratching my head on the way to bed, I'll think just a bit more on it and forget and fall asleep.
get up and ride my bike.