Posts Tagged ‘image’
Picture Stories
How much of the story can a picture convey? That depends on many things, but in this case, I have to say this image fails to depict all of the pertinent details.
I expect it is obvious that some painting occurred here. The deck of Cyndie’s parents’ house was redone recently and as a finishing touch (which wasn’t in the job plan) the contractor added a new baseboard. The guy made a run to a lumber retailer to purchase the wood, installed it, and left the task of painting it to the homeowners.
Cyndie and I are spending the weekend here so Cyndie could accompany her mom to an outpatient appointment, and then battle mightily to persuade Marie to convalesce long enough for an incision to heal. There was no sign of any slowing down upon their arrival home yesterday. Her mom was lifting things and bending over to reach into low cupboards as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
For my part, and relating more to the image above, I was able to contribute by tending to this minor nuisance of unfinished wood. I learned about the project at breakfast, when Fred checked on my availability and announced he had masking tape and the spray paint at the ready.
I’m not really a spray paint guy, but how hard can it be? I ruffled through the bag of meager clothing I’d packed for the weekend to find a shirt I wouldn’t mind getting paint on and opted for shorts and bare feet to tackle the job. Unfortunately, I failed to consider that the composite boards would get as hot as beach sand in the beating sun while I was out there.
I thought it would be a nice “present” for Marie if the job happened while she was unaware, so I started as soon as possible after they departed for her appointment and strove to push my pace in hopes of making quick work of the job. Despite the occasional breeze. While keeping one eye on the day-job email account. Stopping to take a call from the pest control guy who was searching for our window well back home.
After I gave out a credit card number authorizing the plan to trap a suspected woodchuck in Beldenville, it was time to commit myself to my own entrapment on the deck. The new baseboard ran beneath the sliding door to the house, so when I applied tape and paper across that opening, I was stuck until the paint was applied.
About that point, my back muscles started to twinge. Then, my feet and knees started to burn. Then, the spray paint started to drip around the nozzle. I’d not prepared properly for dripping from the can. All I had available was some of the used newspaper to try wiping up.
I didn’t think about what accumulating paint around the nozzle would do when following the instructions to continually shake the can throughout the painting.
I didn’t know it would be hot enough that I would start dripping sweat.
Alas, I survived, everything was cleaned up before Marie and Cyndie arrived home, and the deck looks appropriately finished.
There are pertinent details which that image above definitely does not convey.
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Look Up
Some very interesting images can be found by looking straight up. A few days ago, I posted a shot looking up a concrete utility pole in Florida. Here is another version of the same pole, after walking around to the other side.
They probably deserve to be shown as a pair. I like the contrast of the opposing direction of the light source between the two.
Meanwhile, I’m back at the day-job, digging out from a backlog of work that piled up while I was away. I was so exhausted when I walked in the door after work yesterday, I laid down for a minute. Pequenita immediately took advantage of my presence and pummeled me with kneading and head-butting in a quest for attention.
I think she missed me.
In a blink, I was no longer blinking. My eye lids stayed down and my brain checked out. It just so happened, my labor wasn’t immediately needed outside. For the first time since Cyndie’s knee surgery on the last day of November, she handled the outdoor ranch duties!
I think the chance to do some extended walking while we were in Florida, away from the icy, snowy terrain, boosted her confidence. Monday night she walked Delilah while I cleaned up manure and filled hay boxes. Yesterday, she did morning and evening chores, drove to a physical therapy appointment, did exercises there, and then went grocery shopping.
Talk about getting back into action. Of course, after dinner it was quickly time to get horizontal for the rest of the night and ice the knee. Fair enough.
It feels like I have come out of the tunnel. Things are definitely looking up.
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Flying Home
Today is going to be a travel day for us, as we are flying from Florida to Minneapolis on our way home to Wisconsin. I am ready to get back to my normal routine. Despite leaving this warm and sunny climate and returning to the cold and snow, I don’t feel bad about leaving.
It’s been great hanging out with Cyndie’s family and celebrating her dad’s birthday, but even Fred was beginning to express interest in being done with all the special attention. There’s a point after which continued pounding on the “happy birthday” accolades begins to feel excessive.
The surprises are complete, and both Steve and Ben had to leave yesterday, so the momentum of the long weekend has already shifted significantly toward the concluding phases of the operation.
After their departure, Barry, Carlos, & I took a hike around the perimeter of the golf club community where Cyndie’s parents’ house is located. I stepped up to take a picture of one of the giant concrete power poles that support wires running along a portion of one border.
Almost looks like a pyramid.
After a long, leisurely soak in the pool, the day was slipping away at a rapid pace. We took in some NFL playoff broadcasts and ran a little errand to scout out a nice hotel nearby that has a few extra water slide features complimenting their pools. It could become an option for a future family gathering event down here.
Now my mind is shifting in advance toward thinking about a certain dog, some horses, our meowing cat, and the snow mess I will return to at the end of this day. It’s been above freezing for most of the time we’ve been away. I can’t guess how much snow will still be on the ground when we arrive.
Looking ahead, there appears to be a little more of the white stuff on the way tomorrow and Wednesday, so reality will settle in right away.
For now, our fun in the sun is done.
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Definitely Wet
Cyndie is leading a workshop session this weekend, which normally involves use of the round pen. Friday, in preparation, she spent some time pulling weeds from the sand because the wetness made the chore easy. After that, the plan was to drag the pen with the rake behind the ATV.
Unfortunately, it was too wet for the 4-wheeler. I waited until yesterday and then checked on whether I should try raking it by hand. It was even wetter than she had described.
That happens around here. After a day of sun, when you’d think the ground should be getting dryer, it actually gets wetter. It takes a day or two for the ground water to make its way through our property from land above ours.
Yesterday morning the round pen sand was like soup in places.
—For some reason, that picture tends to look reversed to me upon first viewing, so that the footprints appear raised up above the background. Sometimes it is a struggle to get my brain to correct the perception, but when it suddenly does, I find it almost impossible to go back and see it as I previously had. An interesting optical illusion.—
While I was raking the muddy slop, the horses meandered over to offer their moral support, grazing nearby.
I’ll check the sand again this morning, in case the low dew point temperature, sunshine, and breezes of yesterday helped dry things enough to make it useable, but I’ll be surprised if it did. I was mowing through standing water in a few places yesterday afternoon.
The grounds are definitely wet around here, top to bottom.
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Photographic Decay
Something about the puzzle-like visual of decaying wood and metal really grabbed my attention last weekend when we were snowshoeing in the woods and came upon the trash dumps. So, naturally, I took a picture of it. I’ve noticed since, the photo has captured that same allure for me. I can’t stop looking at it.
I think that says a lot about the success of a photograph. If you find yourself wanting to look at it again and again, you must have done something right.
I can’t really grasp what it is that draws me to it. Maybe that is a part of the attraction, …the mystery of it.
Admittedly, the curious cutouts are attention grabbers, but I think the shadow plays a big part for me, maybe just as much. Throw in the clean-looking snow, the spindly branch above, and the bark-like appearance of the disintegrating wood, and you get a combination of features that keep my eyes coming back for more.
There is a juxtaposition that I like in the discarded item having been left for decay, now transformed to a new use as the primary feature of a photographic image.
Everything old is new again.
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Image
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just a thought
a glimmer of hope
a perception of you
that becomes real
in my mind
no different from
how my brain forms
the image of you
captured by my eyes
as I look
directly at you
in real time
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