Piano vs. Preparation

This morning I learned that a "Prepared Piano" is when you change the timbre of a piano by placing a foreign object inside the instrument, usually on its strings. This is important for me to know; I can't say why yet. 

Or that's drama of the holiday writing.

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Believe it or not, I only today, literally New Years Day, realized that my blog here (Yes, that's me; hello, fourth wall.) has become more about my experience and impressions of photography than the explicit details of my experience and impressions as me. 

Will it change? Will I change? Do I want to? I don't know yet, and it doesn't matter to me. 

 The realization of what I'm doing is more important to me than the decision of what to do, if that makes any sense.

I have left out many grotesque and superfluous details, it's true. For instance, that my bathwater smelled like shea butter, bleach and mesquite this morning, that the light over my couch right now is far more blue than yellow which is uncommon, that I have a voluptuous red papercut on the back of my left hand from who knows what last night and it's painful and right atop a vein and makes me think of how the inside of my neck must look without the skin.

That the thing about which I feel the most shame in life has to do with email and not just one email but many and specifically a great lack of email on my part, that making photo-collage seems to be a staving-off of another project maybe a sort of Pasttime Until but I don't know what comes after the Until, that often I am happier than I let anyone know which is saying a lot because I might be the happiest person most people know. 

That the same goes for my sadness which doesn't seem to have a bottom and doesn't render me passive but active and I have to regulate that part of myself with a steel chain mostly because it doesn't scare me mostly because it's the only power that matters and it's the only power we have. 

 That the sunlight bothers my eyes every single morning if I work on the computer but I've gotten comfortable bending my head to the right or left instead of moving my chair a few inches and this is what's happening as I type this, that I don't think anyone has more coincides in their life but that some find more enjoyment in pointing out and bragging about their set of coincidences to others and I'm specifically talking about myself.

That I wrote a sentence here then deleted it then wrote an explanation about the deletion and then deleted it too, that I have a long and growing list of common photo pet peeves and am too embarrassed and proud to list them in part because the moment I say I dislike one thing in art I end up wanting to disprove myself and am successful, that I consciously do not get to know my neighbors because I don't want to be social in my private space, that my heart races when someone knocks on my door, that when I began to write the reasons why my heart races I realized how extensive and brutally honest I'm feeling and decided against it.

That I prefer watching movies alone on the first viewing, that two weeks ago I had to hire a trash service to remove piles and piles of bags of my past, that I threw away items I should have returned or given to a new home or loved again, that I would never say I want to start anew because I've done it and it's fun until you realize starting anew is always in your head no matter how far you move or what you trash or who you think you've forgotten, that I've been forgotten and they were right to forget.