35

Late, getting ready for bed.  For some reason Jack became enamored of these foam earplugs.  The photo I saw was him sitting there just sort of deadpan, earplug hanging out of each ear.  But, like so many compelling visuals that fail in the attempt to translate to a photograph, it just didn't happen.

I'm crazed with work and trying to get ready for a somewhat extended (10 day) and arduous (to a very remote part of Wyoming -- no transportation in or out other than horses, and our own legs) trip that I depart for on Friday.  I'm looking forward to the trip in the most part because it will be set-aside time.  When I'm not worrying about work or what a mess the house is or all those daily distractions -- I can just take time to make photos.  Like my recent Maine workshop experience, only with less pressure (and, sadly, less engagement with other creative and articulate photographers).  In the past week or so I have really felt photography receding back to some neglected back corner of my life, and I want to fight to keep it front and center.  Because doing that equates to keeping something of my soul front and center, too.  To hell with the dishes. 

Wish me luck today.  Going on my first paid photo assignment since Maine.