I'd like to say I have something pithy and worth note this cold winter's eve, but ... hey, it's just a banana. Abused, scraped, dropped, smushed, mushed, dying, dead, creased, poked, prodded, whithered, blistered ... but not peeled.
Just ... a banana.
It's a metaphor for today. Somewhere, somehow, life will open up and it'll still be sweet inside. Just like a banana. Until then, I'll be bruised and battered on the outside. Just like that banana.
I've been reading Within the Frame: The Journey of Photographic Vision
this week. I'm about half-way through, devouring as many pages as my sleepy eyes can eat before nodding off to sleep. I've got a dozen post-it's scattered throughout the first half so far. Things that I wanted to remember, things that I wanted to come back and re-digest again and again. Just stuff that popped out at me like a wrinkled-up and abused banana. Something you don't forget seeing. Will post more about those things later. Maybe even a full book review by the end of the week. Who knows? Until then, I'm going to go eat a banana. It's looking lonesome.
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