I have been rummaging through images, documents, and infinite shreds of digital detritus lingering in the bowels of my 12 terabyte RAID. Much of this stuff is needless, not unlike the RAID itself, which proved to be more of a pain in the ass than any kind of benefit. I spend more time verifying backups and managing the innards of file systems than I do actually writing or being some kind of contributor to this, our shared world.
If I somehow earned a penny a year for every single picture I ever took I might be set for life. If nothing else I would have an awful lot of pennies.
The first woman I dated in New York spoke often of her pennies. When she was living with the guy she was with before me she said they were so poor they had to roll pennies and take them to the bank. I never questioned her on this, but I thought her use of this anecdote as some kind of proof of something was gratuitous. I didn’t think you had to be poor to stuff pennies into paper rolls. What are you supposed to do with pennies? Throw them away?
For as long as I can remember I have stuffed loose change into rolls, making occasional appearances at the bank with $100 or so in precisely calculated coins. Most times the bankers do not react at all. That, I would think, is as it should be. But once in a while a teller will comment on the industry I must have put forth in assembling these hundreds upon hundreds of individual coins.
A surprising number of oddball coincidences existed between myself and the penny-packing woman’s ex boyfriend. His name was also Mark. He was born on the exact same day and year as me. He was originally from Florida (Miami, I think). She even claimed there was an uncanny resemblance, though I never saw any photos of him. I would think I had a doppelgänger in this person save for the fact that he was black. The penny-packing woman was neither the first nor the last person to tell me she thought I was a black person in white skin.
Among the many pictures I’ve unearthed through this RAID rummaging has been this masterpiece, quite possibly the greatest photograph ever taken. It is certainly the finest photo ever captured of a chair.
Chair
If I do not deserve one penny for this magnificent image then there is no sense in having pennies. A penny’s reward is the perfect tonic for this stupefyingly marvelous photograph. Its sublime greatness comes not just merely from the transcendental inspiration of the shot itself but from the virtuoso use of image filters to elevate this photo from its incipient greatness to the absolute pinnacle of the art.
My coffers are filled with photos of which I have no memory. The image below, from August, 2010, shows a chandelier and mirror which appear to be behind a window. I am holding an umbrella. Before noticing the umbrella I thought this photo was taken indoors, and that I would expect to have a clearer memory of being at a place with such an object as this chandelier. The camera’s GPS is no help in summoning this image’s location. According to that source this photo was taken off the coast of Africa in the Atlantic Ocean, a remote spot which I have not had the pleasure of visiting.
Mirror and Chandelier
I am, of course, spewing nonsense today. Once in a while I think it is good to grease the wheels of one’s eloquence with balderdash. This really fails to even reach that estimable goal, but I am tired and it is cold as hell in here. It is a nor’easter day, with flying debris warnings and gusty winds. Rain is coming. I ventured outside earlier but might just see if I can make a day of sitting here and writing. I have so much to do, but it has become difficult to decide what comes first, and more importantly what tasks I choose not to do at all.
I was thinking of putting together a static version of my original web site and copying it onto the 100 blank CDs I got for $1 at a Salvation Army. I would distribute these discs at thrift shops and in library books. The thrift shops would charge a buck or two per disc but the ones I put in library books would be free for anyone who finds them. I would not make even one penny from this project but it might raise a new breed of intrigue among people who would otherwise never cross this these paths.
Seriously. Just stop with the women. Stop and take a cold, hard, long look at yourself, Have you ever done that? Without blaming the women you’ve been with? You want someone who will comply and fit in what YOU and only YOU want to work for you and your life, your habits, your likes, your mood, your level of drunkeness or soberness, your sleeping habits, your random surges of creative energy. You had you chance for that person and you know what and who that was and you LET IT GO. You cut it off like a diseased appendage. Pretending you were free now. Are you free? If you’ve learned anything, stop lying to yourself and everyone around you. Stop pretending life has been fucking you over since you were a teenager. Stop blaming everyone and everything around you instead of taking a long look in the mirror.