Autumn Is Out

I went out with a camera. This might not strike you as much. Even better, this might not strike you at all. Worry not though, I’m here to tell you that it’s a badass achievement.

You must consider that I go out rarely and that I go out with the camera about as often as the leap year occurs. If not less frequently.

What I found out outside is that it is autumn. Whatever. I shot to kill and here is what I brought home. Which is, again, not much. It’s my recurrent theme.

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Dug Up from the Archives

I had an acute episode of feeling weird yesterday. I know, that’s not a very specific description of the condition. I don’t know what my bloody problem was, apart from lacking a will to do anything, including breathing.

I fixed it though when it occurred to me to pleasure my OCD (aka CDO) and dig around in my computer archives with the apparent purpose to organise them. It was really an emotional displacement because everything about me, including my archives, are well organised already. Except it’s not perfect, so here you go.

What I dug up was shocking. That is, boring to anyone but me, who was genuinely surprised and sometimes severely shocked at my own paraphernalia. I couldn’t even remember that I ever created some of the content I found, but unless my cat has a covert hobby, it must’ve been me.

Among other long-forgotten and hence basically non-existent stuff, I found: unexpectedly good poems in Czech (in a folder labelled creative writing, so I must’ve authored them); love letters (what the actual fuck?); something written in German (I do recall I studied German but no longer speak the language); and photos, a lot of photos.

The ones in the gallery were originally posted on Flickr, before I deleted my account after not using it for years. (You get the sequence of events here, right?) They were taken with my beloved red compact camera, which I no longer own and wonder whom I gave it to. Because I want it back.

Stuff I Shot in the Park

My first awkward attempts at shooting in other mode than auto.

A Square Week

My week wasn’t particularly square. Neither was it round though. I’m just running out of ideas what to call my posts in the challenge which consists of snapping and Instagraming a photo a day and throwing a week’s worth bunch together over on the blog. What would you call it? The lazy challenge? The recycle challenge? The zerofucksgiven challenge?

Here you go. I challenge you to scroll down. Not in one mighty scroll, preferably. You know, I did put some minimum effort into making captions for the pictures. I challenge you to read them. Or not to read them. Whichever you find more challenging. Or less challenging. Wait. I know what to call my challenge. The challenged challenge.

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2 April: My windows are so filthy that the cat has difficulty looking out through them. That’s the only thing that may coerce me to clean the windows. Maybe. 
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3 April: Feel free to appreciate my cute yoga pants and fancy yoga mat. I also recommend to your attention the commendable fact that I painted my toe nails and shaved my big toes. 
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4 April: This is just to deliver a bullet-proof proof that I also painted my finger nails. And that on this day, as on any day, I had coffee. 
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5 April: There were blue holes in the late evening sky. Ozone holes visible? The photo turned out more like darkness visible. 
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6 April: I have tiles. They are ugly. There are shadows on them. That’s about it.
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7 April: I put my as lovely as beloved winter coat (rightmost) to sleep for the upcoming summer. I was surprised to discover I have multiple options of spring coats: blue and yellow (middle and left). How did that happen? What on earth possessed me to buy two versions of one thing and so expose myself to decision paralysis? 
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8 April: I read. That’s apparently what people do. Hence, I’m people. Though I have my doubts.

 

Another Instaweek

I’m still on Instagram. And still taking pictures of crap. This week I couldn’t have even been bothered to take pictures of proper crap, so I’d just point my phone camera in a random direction and call the result abstract, conceptual and minimalist. That’s a polite way of saying that something is plain dumb and shows zero effort.

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26 March: Still traumatised by a blackout that happened forever ago and caught me in the act of not having a torch, I purchased a candle holder. Cheaper than a torch and doesn’t need batteries.
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27 March: The Day of the Triffids. That’s another trauma of mine, this time a childhood one. Ever since I read this book, I’ve been wary of plants. Admit it. This plant looks so scary.
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28 March: I was forced to sew a button back on my pants so I could wear them and I hated it.
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29 March: I unregistered from paying radio broadcast fees and since I now officially must not own a radio, I tossed my unused radio alarm on the shoe rack, ready to take it to the pawn shop. By the shape of its loop aka noose, I assume the device suggests I hang myself.
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30 March: You think you’re seeing a night light show? You’ll never believe me but it’s really a picture of bubbles on my coffee shot with flash. Yep.
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31 March: That’s not a disused flag but my bed sheets. Changing the bed was the highlight of the day. I so much hate doing it, jumping from one end of the bed to the other and trying to fit the supposedly fitted sheet.
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1 April: I’m either twelve or I never grew up because journaling in these super cute notebooks is super idiotic when an adult does it. I apologise if you’re doing it too. I don’t mean you, I mean me.

 

Bringing Light to Instagram

Do you think this post is going to be about my enlightening Instagram? Gotcha! Of course not. You should know better now than to trust me. I bring gloom and doom wherever I go, including Instagram.

Since the last week’s power outage, I’ve been entirely enthralled with manifestations of light. Light is good, especially artificial light, because artificial light means the power is on. And so is WiFi.

So I bring to your attention another instalment of my photo-a-day project (which I’m still denying I’m doing), as originally posted on Instagram.

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19 March: Go, Cheddar, go! Cheddar didn’t but I went to get groceries.
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20 March: The grocery mission was an unqualified success. For a small fee, I will organise your fridge all neat and nice like this. I’m OCD, that’s what I do.
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21 March: This is my flat entry door. I think someone forgot to throw in a threshold. Light Exhibit #1.
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22 March: That’s a perfectly useless random window in a wall between two rooms. But, good for Light Exhibit #2.
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23 March: I wasn’t drunk when taking this. My phone apparently was. But it’s Light Exhibit #3.
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24 March: I changed the bulb. Not ideal, but I never said I was a good janitor. Light Exhibit #4.
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25 March: I specialise in low-res grainy shitty photos. Street Light Exhibit #5.

 

What Happens on Instagram…

What happens on Instagram doesn’t stay on Instagram. That sounds catchy and cheesy, right? What I mean is that I give you literally what I posted on Instagram last week, continuing in my snap-a-day thingy.

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12 March: It’s been raining and the tile on my balcony appears rusty, which is curious, given it’s not even made of metal.
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13 March: The skies haven’t fallen yet. Though doom and gloom are constantly impending.
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14 March: I lit a candle and it was red and warm and nice.
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15 March: Today was the day when I, as every day, made coffee. 
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16 March: That’s my cat’s spot. The other day I made the mistake of using the at the moment vacant spot to fold laundry. Bad idea. Now all my laundry is furry.
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17 March: Kids are fascinating creatures. They need so little to amuse themselves. These look like Star Wars kids. In the modest conditions of the tenement culture, of course.
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18 March: Light, light! I almost loved that, but I don’t have the capacity, obviously.

Autumn Archives

I’m obsessively taking photos, on which I toss them in the archives and forget about them. So, I’m thinking, what the fuck, let’s post some of that old stuff on the blog. Extremely topical (not), here goes last year’s autumn.

An Instagram Week

So, I’m still on Instagram and still doing this 365 challenge—though I’m vehemently denying both that I’m doing it and that it’s an all-year-round challenge—when I’m taking and posting a photo a day on Instagram and then taking a week’s worth of snaps over to the blog because—well, I have no idea why. Here’s this week’s batch, if you can live with not knowing why I’m (not) doing this.

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5 March: See the question mark on the bin? This existentially inclined bin has no idea why it’s taking your crap.
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6 March: I went out and it was raining. End of story, if a story it was.
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7 March: I deeply regret this photo. It’s what is marketed as silky smooth tofu, but it looked like frozen sperm to me and tasted like—well, suffice to say that I threw it out, though I never throw food out.
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8 March: It was a sunny day. I haven’t seen the sun for so long that I struggled to figure out what that blazing light was about. I shot this through the bathroom window. The window glass is wrinkled like this so people can’t stare at me showering. 
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9 March: I went out and met potted flowers. They left me wondering who on earth would waste so much money on flowers that will promptly die anyway. Says a person who bought her cat potted grass for chewing.
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10 March: I maintain a colouring routine. Its purposes are mysterious because it’s neither useful nor relaxing. It’s just something I do.
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11 March: The flu/angina/cold I brought home from my trip to England is persistent as fuck. A week later, it’s not going anywhere. So here’s my current bestie, the tissue box.

A Week in Instant Pictures

You know how I always say that I’ve been up to nothing? Well, this week I’ve been up to so much shit! Still, I somehow miraculously contrived to make it look like I’ve been nowhere and done nothing. See for yourself.

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Feb 26: Calm waters run deep? I think this sign is here in case someone drowns in a puddle of their own saliva and wishes to press charges. Because people are crazy.
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Feb 27: I’m all for balls, I love balls, but not served like this. This is just perverse.
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Feb 28: The hotel challenge starts. The goal is to find your room. For advanced players: find your room while drunk.
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March 1: The best memory from my business trip are the smoking lounges at airports. Heavenly.
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March 2: On departing from my hotel, I helped myself to some soap. Because I’m fucking poor and I need it more than the hotel.
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March 3: The inevitable post-travel angina/flu is here. I’m wearing all I have. Indoors.
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March 4: Still ill and can’t even…