show details Jul 19 (1 day ago)
It may be possible that the undersides of clouds do roil and slither, chunk and open like these seem to — in very slow motion, mind you…but, not as slow as you might think.
People who have given the sky more than a momentary glance have noted the peculiarity – but, they – like me – are unsure as to whether or not the clouds are TRULY unusual or if they just SEEM truly unusual…
And, in the end – even with all the pictures. The clouds do seem questionable. I mean: They are, after all – clouds.
We have a pretty odd relationship with the sky. We are sort of fair weather friends with it. Which is kind of dumb – considering how much it impacts our broad human habitats.
I understand fair weather friends – I am sort of the opposite. My sense of friendship towards people seems most true when they are in states of crises.
If people don’t genuinely need me, I try hard not to waste much of my time with them. I am tired of being a cardboard cutout…if it is not me that you need – well, please just let me use my headspace in a way that feels genuine.
That is the problem with my recent inquiry into repetitive cloudforms. It feels genuine and yet – it cannot possibly be.
The sky is supposed to be a blank slate – even if it is full of clouds. I have – to my credit – spent a VAST number of hours looking at the sky. Every porch I have ever had has faced E/SE.
Except the southernmost one, the I grew up with – that one faced N/NW…and so – in a way – I have always been facing home…
It would seem logical to try to drive down to St. Marys – but, no way am I gonna put myself through that madness. No way.
The holy land of disassociative disorder. Shipman was right when he said that St. Marys is one of the most haunted places he has ever been…
That place is full of ghosts and so are the people who grew up there.
We are – to the best of my knowledge – all sort of out of sync…caught up in our own version of the American Dream…Now With More Dystopia!
I have pretty obnoxious with my mother lately. Sorry, Mom. It’s just pretty frustrating – to get the sense that you are trying to protect me…which – I guess – is what mother’s are kind of supposed to do? I guess. I mean, when their offspring are young.
As of midnight, I am 34 years old. I am not really sure what my mom is trying to protect me from…failure? Who cares? Scorn? Bring it. Criticism? Is she kidding me? Embarrassment? For whom are you concerned in that regard?
I actually feel brave and content with myself and my preposterous notion that perhaps the sky I have always pleaded to for a sign…well, perhaps I am getting it, after all.
And maybe the sky always has been just like it was tonight, and last night – filled with angles and circular glows, tendrils spilling from the edges like they are heavy as nitrogen, and yet light somehow…caught and held in paisley swirls.
I don’t really care why the clouds look like they do. I just want to know, scientifically – how? How do you get a zigzagged and quilted effect on clouds?
I think that is a valid question. The sky is not supposed to contain quite so many layers, is it? And it’s low. Too low.
The camera I use is either my phone or a demo model Kodak with 10x zoom. No macrozoom here. I wish. I wish I could get closer.
It might be time to try to get that hot air balloon ride?
I am tired.
I am launching a project on Kickstarter and I need to do video and project image and plans…
Make Zine. Should be no problem. (Ha!) I’ve got good rewards planned.
show details 7:44 PM (6 hours ago)
I am now officially 34 years old, though I tend to round up for a couple months prior. I also am now officially divorced and I am (fingers crossed on timely uploading, etc.) launching a Kickstarter project to fund the production of Figuring Faith: Volume One…
Though I sort of want to nix the name association thing…well, I kind of don’t. It was my maternal grandmother’s name and I think I probably wouldn’t be who am without a name that is relatively rare and heavy on conceptual burden.
Really, my moments of lost hope always seemed more hopeless for the irony of being named Faith.
Anywho – fairly tedious day as birthdays go. The kids forgot. And then the boy went to skate camp and the girl went off the neighbor girl and I got a BRILLIANT idea for my Kickstarter promo video. And I got it all constructed…my big cave of pure white paper, vaguely ovoid…in which I would take advantage of the lovely acoustics of the egg form and the warm day and sing about how many words I’d written and how I want a book to bear my name…blah, blah, blah.
Songwriters and poets can get away with almost anything. It is hard to write an honest narrative non-fiction without coming of as…well, weird.
So – was all ready to record my improv song – to wow the masses and – oh, lovely the mic on the still camera in video mode sucks – I sound like a mouse and I look like a woman screaming and pleading silently from the depths of a recycling bin. Awesome.
Not to mention the powerful silver eyeshadow that I thought might give me a little light around the eyes…well, let me just say…there was definitely light.
Speaking of, still following the clouds – but in a subtextual way. I definitely have proof of documentable sameness and the art of it is in the why how and has it always been this way.
Also, I am doing some experiential research on people’s reaction to being told that the clouds are unusual. The Billy Graham Training Center was rude. The FBI in Charlotte were fairly nice. (I was very clear in my assertion that I was only erring on the side of caution and that they ought to think of what a nice story they’d get to tell later. The guy was pretty nice. Much nicer than that guy at the BGTC Response Center. I’ll need to write the full account at some point soon.
Seriously, I have months worth of impressions and tangential notes to…well, note.