Stayed home all day. Cleaned my studio, which I tore up looking for a couple of things recently: framed photographs and a certain old journal with writings about Iceland for an essay I’m working on. D and I also cleaned up the house, which got a bit out of hand with all the unwrapping of gifties on Christmas Day, and playing with them the day after.
We went out for a hike around four o’clock. D has a digital camera too, now. His first in years and years. He took some amazing shots of light on the mountains yesterday. Our hike took a while since we both kept stopping for pix.
I had walked ahead and was squatting on the trail when I took this. He reciprocated by taking my photo. Squatting… It’s something one probably shouldn’t allow oneself to be photographed doing. It comes off as vaguely scatalogical at best.But you know, maybe I should be proud of my ability and opportunity to squat when I want to. Could my grandmother have squatted with impunity?
I squat for women around the world who are not allowed to squat for reasons of oppressive propriety!Or, um, for reasons of personal dignity.
The photo D shot:
1 comment:
I can't understand why you are not a famous published writer! Or ARE you?
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