I pulled out my long forgotten harmonica and played it while watching the kids run around the yard in the lingering evening heat of the back yard as my wife picked tomatoes off the vine.
I can make noises that sound like blues and bend a little to boot, but honestly I don’t know what I’m doing.
Just pushing some fresh air around, entertaining myself and the kids as the last bits of daylight disappears behind the masonry wall.
One of the local parks has a frisbee golf course so we brought one with us this latest visit.
First, I most likely could use “better” frisbees. I remember the game store in Berkeley having a whole wall of different frisbees for aficionados of this hobby.
Second, I have no idea if it made me any better, but I was constantly reminded of what I learned in Tai Chi. I tried to root my self in the ground and let the body relax, whipping around to initiate a wobbly sad flight trajectory.
Third, my almost 40 year old body was pretty compliant while on site. But it only took the ride home for my left arm to decide that this sudden uptick in this particular repetitive action was traumatic enough to send alarm bells for the rest of the day.
Finally, my daughter had a ball running up and down the hills chasing the frisbee and throwing it around.
My last two decades in a nutshell, encapsulated in a plastic disc.
As an architect I’ve always been picky about my writing tools.
As a draftsman, I started using 2H lead, but learned a lighter touch and transitioned to H lead for my line work. For my lettering I always used HB lead, which Staedtler Mars discontinued during that stint and caused a minor panic, but we bought enough to last me thorugh to leaving for graduate school. And yes Staedtler Mars was a better lead than Alvin.
I also have picked up a few fancy fountain pens over the years, but ultimately they were too scratchy and have not been used.
I appreciate the fine points of rollerball pens, but I don’t like the fact they can get cloggy.
And the micro fine points of razors are nice for about half a day until they get frayed under my heavy hand, at which point they are not at all pleasant to use.
But my tool of choice is the Papermate Flair pen. It’s a finely crafted writing tool that is cheap enough I can have copies all over the place and feel no pain when it runs out of ink or when one is lost. With a plethora of colors, I can make multiple layers of notes on a single sheet of paper. The felt tip runs smoothly on any type of paper. The point is fine enough to make good notes, but blunt enough to degrade gracefully. It is in short, my perfect pen.
When I first got my Nikon D40, I took a self portrait in the bathroom at Grant Street. I did the same when I got my manual focus 50mm lens. And then I got a 500mm f/6.3 lens which I’ve since given to my father. And thus ended that run of self portraits that was intended to celebrate each addition to the collection.
But quite by accident I ended up taking a shot of myself with my Tokina 500mm f/8 lens. I had pulled out this lens due to the “watching/voyeur” assignment on OTP and I saw a glimpse of myself in the sliding glass door and took a couple shots of myself. Its not perfect, between the vanishingly thin DOF and the longish shutter speed, it wasn’t gonna be clean, but its good enough to kick up the collection again.
The spoon was quite a luxury. I bought it on my wife’s fake birthday and it was a pricey little fellow hand carved from a tree in Jasper, Texas that had been taken down due to Hurricane Ike. It was a brutally hot July noon in Houston at the farmer’s market at City Hall, but an interesting conversation and a memory worth way more than $50.