September 2006 Archives

The long, hot, bone-dry summer has been sapping my creativity, I'm afraid. I feel a bit as though my muse is gone. I seldom have the urge to pick up my camera lately, and when I do, I seldom see anything worth shooting. Perhaps, as they say, contentment isn't conducive to art.

Last week, walking to the bus stop, I saw the first photographable scenes that I've seen in months. It was late in the afternoon, before an evening rainstorm, and behind some low-hanging dark clouds, the light was phenomenal as it shone on the buildings downtown. There's a certain kind of light and a certain gray sky that makes every color richer and more saturated. That was the light I had that evening.

...Of course, I didn't have my camera with me that day.

Today, I started craving a road trip - a nice, long road trip to somewhere far from here, like Montana or Washington. The weather has been pleasant the last week or so, with temperatures blessedly dropping a bit, and I find myself wanting to get out of here and away from the office for a while. Scott and I haven't had a chance to take any road trips together, and I'm dying to reprise Claudia's and my trip westward to San Diego, or the trip my family took from Forth Worth to Canada when I was about fourteen.

On that long-ago road trip, there were four of us squished into a VW Jetta, and my kid sister kept invading my limited personal space. But what I remember most clearly were the long nights we drove in the middle of nowhere in desolate, seemingly unpopulated states like Wyoming, toward the next bit of civilization, and how vividly I could see the stars, with no light pollution or clouds interfering with my view.

I made Scott promise that we'd take our road trip before he starts working. We're tangled in bureaucratic immigration nonsense again, so it may be a while until then anyway, but I don't want this to be something we talk about but never do. We can do this. I just hope we do it soon.

I'll take my camera along.

I dreamt last night that I had updated my weblog with something insightful and meaningful, and that Lloyd had commented on it. I don't, unfortunately, remember what insightful prose I crafted in my sleep, but I remember that Lloyd wrote very nice things about how happy he always is when I get around to writing insightful prose.

I think my weblogging conscience is catching up to me.

Yesterday, I had nothing to say. That's not true. I had something to say that was at least moderately insightful, but I don't remember what it was, so perhaps it was only faux-insightful. Everyone else I read and watch has already written wonderful and insightful prose about what it means to be five years removed from the most awful, aweful, terrible tragedy I've ever seen. And goodness knows, in the days leading up to September 11th, 2006, every branch of mainstream media (and, I'd wager, every branch of alternative media) has spent far too much energy trying to tell me what I should think about it.

I've been avoiding the media at every turn this week. Last night, we watched Antiques Roadshow, and then I switched to Jewelry Television so that I could avoid watching our Illustrious Leader, whose smug mug was broadcast on every other channel we receive on our super-basic cable. I remember, okay? I do. Really. I'm not going to forget what happened on September 11, 2006.

Also? I'm so tired of people calling it "9-11." "Nine-eleven." I think people abbreviate it because it helps them objectify it and extract themselves from the horror of what happened that day. To me, it just seems glib.

I get, though, that we're all dealing with this in our own way, and that my avoidant way is no better than the way of the people who watched all the docudramas that Hollywood could churn out. And I'm balancing a healthy bit of guilt for the fact that I'm deliriously happy at the moment, enjoying married life with my sweet, funny, snuggly husband immensely.

We're waiting on the plodding bureaucracy of the Department of Homeland Security (the irony of which has not escaped me) to issue my snuggly husband's green card so that he can find gainful employment (and save us from an indefinite future as a single-income household). Waiting is infinitely easier this time than it was when we were waiting for his visa. We're together now, at least, and money is just... money.

If there's anything that September 11th taught me, it's that life is short and uncertain. Being together and deliriously happy is as much as I can ask for.