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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. 

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Family game night!  I lost big at Trouble.  Could not pop a 6 to get out of home base to save my life!

(Completely photographically unrelated side rant: this is a vintage Trouble game, made in the USA in the 1970s, with righteous pop-o-matic action.  You can still buy Trouble new in stores, but it's totally flimsy.  You have to hold down the floppy cardboard surface with one hand to do a proper pop, which often skitters the lightweight playing pieces out of their holes.   Highly unsatisfying.  Pictured, however, is the Trouble of *my* childhood: sturdy, stable and satisfying.  Accept no substitutes!)

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This photograph isn't much in terms of composition or art, but it sure was fun to watch Coley style his hair with the hand dryer in our local library's family restroom (where big six year old guys who might hang out long-term, playing with the hand dryer can be accompanied by their moms, who can gently move things along after a little while....)

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Extremely un-compelling photo taken for a blog entry I'm writing -- I bartered blog writing for a share in a local organic CSA.  Which is based on this farm.  With this sign.  When I have taught photojournalism courses in the past I've always told my students that a picture of a sign is really not a picture at all and should only be resorted to when no other option exists.  Here I am, ignoring my own fine advice.  Do as I say, not as I do.

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