Monday, December 18, 2023

It's a long way to Tipparery

I know, I know, I know. Where have you been? Are you okay? Did you drop off the face of the Earth? I know, I was "disappeared" for almost a month and a half. I can't say where I've been, some internal domain where I seek to take refuge from the relentless coverage of that lunatic maniac known as D. Trump, as well as the wearying news about Israel killing civilians in Gaza and idiots running amok in the House of Representatives. And, to top it off, barking Elon, the wannabee dictator who has taken a page out of the playbook for the orange Cheeto who is the Republican frontrunner.

It has been over a month since I last posted at the beginning of November. I compose my thoughts all the time, I just don't write them down as much. I instead engage in walking monologues where I talk into my cellphone as I walk around the block. I am conscious of the fact that I am composing my thoughts carefully, and it does help me, but I leave no written record. Plus, I am hardly even taking film photos anymore. I take snaps with my cellphone as well.

What happened with all these much vaunted photography trips that I used to organize my mundanity? It is a thing of the past. It is a routine that has fallen into disuse, and I survey with dismay all the boxes and boxes of film that I have accumulated and which are not being used. I swear, I must have several thousand dollars worth of photographic film in all sizes, from 35mm to 120 rolls to 4x5 and 8x10 sheets to Instax film to my stash of pack film, and I don't use them. The urge to use them has gone by the wayside, and all I have done is give full reign to my depression and the urge to hunker down at home in my room with curtains drawn closed.

Back in 2020 I was also in a desperate stage. Covid had descended on us suddenly and we were told to "shelter in place", and this seemed so bizarre. We had been hearing all the news about Italy and how the virus was killing so many people there, and it was heading west. The first rumblings were being heard out of New York, those desperate, desperate days when it felt as if the Calaca was on a warpath and eager to claim more victims. We were so scared. 

Suddenly everything was cancelled. We were directed to stay at home and not report to work. Further notice would be forthcoming. The paper products in our local stores disappeared, and suddenly, everyone started wearing facemasks. We were told to go for the special N95 masks as well, but well, they weren't even available. We were entering panic mode, and I remember going to our local grocery store, a Winco, and having to wait with a group of other customer outside because they were only letting in batch of people. What the hell was this? And the news coming from New York was frightening, hundreds and hundreds of deaths per day and the governor crying in his press conferences.

It was in this state of agonizing fear that I hit upon a plan. I had to wait for a few months, we had to finish the spring semester, and we had to wait for less frightening coverage on the media, but it seems that during that summer of 2020 we hit a summer lull, and things might be returning to some normalcy. The markets had returned to normal, albeit now we were all wearing face masks, but it was said that we didn't need them if we were outside, especially in sunny conditions. The virus was much less transmisable in open air, and the warmer temperatures also helped to render it inactive. We were all feeling cabin fever and we wanted at least to go out in the open. I know I did.

So I hit on the idea of going out on photography expeditions with my cameras to photograph what I had been ignoring up to that point. Yes, ignoring. I had spent so much of my time and effort taking ethnic dance photos that I was not paying attention to landscapes, street photography, garden photography, etc. It was time for a change, and since ethnic dance photography was shut down do to the lack of events being held, well, it was the only road that opened up.

Now, several years later, all the routine has been upended. Things have returned more or less to normal since last year, but I found myself without a routine that meant anything to me. I stopped buying new cameras, stopped going to different places to try them out, stopped developing film. I am in stasis. 

It feels as if I am being crushed by the weight of daily life. Mostly, I just lack the motivation. I no longer want to do the same things, and I definitely don't every want to return to taking the folklorico photos I was taking before. That period of my life has been buried, but I don't know where to look to find something new. 

We are in the last half of December now, and I have almost finished with work. I just need to complete some final calculations with the grades for my students before I submit them. Almost done, and I think I have an acceptable distribution. Now, I will have a five week break. Nothing to do this week, and I have no desire to do so in any case. I am afraid of driving because of how manic and aggressive people become during this supposedly "most wonderful time of the year". It is anything but that, it is a time of extreme and severe stress, with people having to spend money they don't have, and people feeling they have to make plans for season events, and the right-wingers braying about "Bring back the Christ to Christmas!". That's why I don't even want to write that word. It is only "Happy Holidays" for me. Let the religious bigots roast their chestnuts on an open fire.

What's on top? Well, after turning in grades, not much. We are expecting rain all this week, but knowing how rain avoids our local climate, it will just look gloomy and we will have sprinkles but nothing much more serious than that. I'm not planning any long trips, especially not with manic drivers everywhere. For now, just hunker down until we have the winter solstice celebration, then, the San Diego Holiday Bowl parade on Dec. 27th, a little over a week away. Then the Rose Parade Bandfests, then the big one itself, the actual parade. January will be busy, though. Many Asian festival taking place as January and February are the months of the Asian Lunar New Year events. 

Let's see if I can at least post a few photos, though. Next post.

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