I back up to the day before yesterday:
The stress of the combination of being both without a working computer and the necessary capital to pay bills took its toll, so much so that once I found myself with a good working computer and funds enough in the bank to carry us for some time, I suddenly felt drained. All energy left me.
At 4:00 PM, Margie drove into ?downtown? Wasilla to shop for groceries and pay bills. I had her drop me off at Metro Cafe, so I could walk home. I would have ridden my bike, but I did not feel that I had the energy to pedal it.
That put me on the inside of Metro. There, I saw Greg pull up to the window. I often see Greg through that window, but usually I am in the car and looking at him on the inside on the other side of the counter. Somehow, Greg and I often wind up at Metro at the same time and he has appeared in a number of studies. Today, it was reversed - I on the inside and he out, looking in. Hence, the above study:
Study of the young writer, Shoshana, #6921: just after she handed a Rockstar power drink to Greg, he on the outside looking in, me on the inside looking out, and accepted his payment.
I had to pay Shoshana for my coffee and pastry of the previous day as well, because on that day I had not been able to scrape together even enough loose change but they knew I was good for it and so carried me for a day. Now I am flush and the summer ahead looks good.
Such can be the life of a freelance photographer/writer. You gotta love it to do it, and if you don't love it, you can't do it. To live this way, it must be the only way your soul will allow you to live.
I walked on the bike trail towards home. I had not gone far before I came upon this fence, newly bashed in several places. Alas, folks, this kind of thing is part of Wasilla, too. It really is. Most folks here are decent, I believe, but there is an element who simply have no respect for anybody or anything but would sure whine mightily were the situation reversed even slightly.
Somebody spends money, works hard, takes pride, and then someone who understands nothing of life comes along and does this.
Probably a kid or a couple of kids, and since we were all kids once, we must forgive kids of many things, but in a case like this, forgiveness should come only after a significant price is paid - including full restoration of the fence.
I walked a little further down the bike trail, then turned around to get a comprehensive view of the damage. I saw a stranger coming along.
It turned out to be Alan Drumsbarger, who is not a stranger any more. "Nice camera," he said, when he caught up to me about two blocks down. We then walked and chatted together for a few more blocks. Alan was born and raised in Wasilla and now runs a little music recording business, 49 State Records, along with relatives and friends. He has a studio in his basement.
He is also a guitarist and base player, and stands in with many bands.
As we walked and talked, he told me all about his studio, and the hard and soft ware that he uses to record and produce music. He told me many things, more than I can take the time to write here. When I asked him if the business was profitable, he laughed. It's an art, you know, and artists are driven by other forces first and profit second, or maybe third or fourth or fifth or maybe they don't even give a damn about profit, but it is just one of those evil necessities that must be figured out, just to allow them to survive and keep making their art.
He did not say it that way, but I know for a first-hand fact that is how it is with some artists.
You will notice that I once again have four photos, whereas I had set a time-saving limit of three.
Well, with this computer now running hot and fast, trust me, I prepared these four photos MUCH faster than I would have prepared three, before Bruce pointed me toward this fix.
Now, if only I could do something about the many time-wasting inefficiencies built into Squarespace, my bloghost, I could add even more images in the same time.