I am incredibly tired of the cold, the gloom, the grey. The weather should be irrelevant, but it is impossible to ignore. It seems to sap the energy out of everything. We’re three days into spring, but it doesn’t feel that way.
Today is almost feverish. There is bright sunlight followed by flurries of snow, gelatinous wet hail, and finally ecstatic forest winds that smells like pine trees. Rinse, wash, repeat every twelve minutes.
Yesterday I stood in the book store on Savigny Platz looking for a gift for my friend Jessica. I was also hoping to find a book to inspire me… I’m taking a fun and new direction in my photography, but everything I looked at was either contrived and boring, or intimidatingly good and wonderfully original. The amount of work being published is overwhelming, and it makes me wonder what is left that hasn’t been done before… and whether the very question is proof of my limited creativity.
But I’m having fun. That means I can enjoy the process, and not worry solely about the final result.