Skip to main content

Beats To The Rhyme

I was shoring up plans for the Cleveland National Air Show today and my friend asked me "so...what's it gonna be this year-a 10ft lens?"

I told him not quite likely. I may bring a DSLR, but I probably won't. I'm quite likely only going to take the Fuji Instax.  I explained that every time I've gone to this I have brought the big camera. Aside from the fact that I'm walking around with a bag worth several thousand dollars is the bigger impact--when I'm so focused on getting that perfect shot, I'm missing out on the event. I had fun the last few times I went, but I missed out on the moment. The joking around...the having fun...the deciding to feck off and go have a look around instead of having to be planted in my seat in time to get the really great shots.

And yes, I got some amazing photos.  But we'll see how this year goes.

I'm giving myself permission to live in the moment. To say fuck it to expectations, and to mostly be Todd this year and not The Photographer.

I'm not a photographer. I enjoy taking pictures, but I think if I had to make a living out of it I would truly go mad. Don't worry...I still love taking pix for me. My one on one time taking moon shots, or landscapes. Those are truly the moments that make me love photography.

If I could only choose between writing and photography, there would be no contest. Writing would win. Writing always will win for me. With photography I take one shot and people write their own stories-very few, if any, will actually see the story in my head or the real reason I shot the image.

When I write...I can paint a picture that will look different to everyone, yet everyone will know the story. And even the same person may see something different years later if they come back and re-read something I've written. It's in my blood. It's who I am. When I don't write something...anything...even these little fuckofframblings that I call a blog...I start to get edgy...snarky...I need the outlet. 

It will be weeks....months sometimes...between times I actually fire up the DSLR (the Instax is different, it's actually helping me live in the moment).

If you ask me the same question between music and writing...the decision will be tougher, but again....writing will win. I can write lyrics...poems...songs--even if I never play them. The words are always first for me.

I can't remember when that started, but I hope it's something I never forget. back to dial in to work to edit some crontabs, which my boss told me is just like writing. Not so sure I agree with him, but hey...writing is writing.

Peace out


Popular posts from this blog

Marriage Material??

I had a friend call me today, fuming. I consider myself a good listener on most days. Considering that I was out of town on a work trip and doing absolutely nothing in my hotel room, my listening game was on-point.

She recounted the exchange that sent her off. I will spare you some of the more personal details, but the gist was, at one point, the dude-bro she was talking to flat out told her that she wasn’t marriage material.

Torn between wanting to be a supportive friend and being completely gobsmacked, I felt her frustration. No. That’s not quite right. I didn’t feel the same frustration she felt. I’m approaching what some consider middle age. I’m white. I’m primarily interested in women. Oh, and I have a penis., I can never truly feel the same frustration she was feeling. Or an anger that comes from the same place her anger came from. No matter how in touch I am witn my feminine side (whatever the fuck that actually means).

Instead, the frustration and anger I was feeling w…

Out of Sorts

Not sure what my deal is today. I got up this morning to go for a walk and it was spitting rain, but no biggie. My thriftstore Nikes were kind of hurting my feet, so that didn't help. But it felt good to go for the walk (other than the hurting feet). And it's all going well...and then I get into work and just turn into PMS-Man.  I don't know what my deal is. I just feel bitchy this morning and I'm not sure why. Yeah. That's all I got.

Post Con-Fusion

It's 5:40 AM on a Wednesday. I have been up for an hour. I have an outline for a work in progress that I intended to work on this morning. I was in the middle of a chapter that I started at lunch and had every intention of continuing this morning. But, much like me, it seems the characters wanted to sleep in today. They wanted to just hunker under the covers as the rain danced its hypnotic melody on my roof. The swoosh swoosh swoosh of the ceiling fan keeping time with the rest of the nocturnal orchestra.

So, I shifted gears. I am taking  a course on getting more words on the page. Something that I want to do need to do if I am to get all of these books that are floating around in my head out in to the world. It's not so much that I think the whole world will love and adore them, although I certainly hope that is the case. No, it's more the fact that it's getting crowded up there. I need to get these words on the page for my own sanity as much as anything else.