Am I lost inside my mind?
In the afternoon when the overcast cleared, ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spatch and I went walking down to the Mystic and I photographed a whole lot of flowers, of which I was happiest with the ones that came out like abstracts.
The tulips had gone for psychedelia.
We dubbed this one Audrey IV.
I hadn't realized Giger had a pastel period.
I just found this one luminous.
I did not get a satisfactory picture of the painted turtle we saw swimming in the Mystic, sculling with its striped head above the water and the bright underside of its shell just visible beneath. Rob got a picture of me sitting on the bridge.
The railing belonged to the parking structure I was standing on while taking a picture of the condemned Elizabeth Grady building which during the Depression had been a silk mill. The texture of the paint reminded me of the barnacle speckling on a humpback whale.
The dead silk tulips were curling at my parents' house, where we watched the Kentucky Derby with my mother. She watched with her mother for years.
Physically I am just pretty miserable, but the lilac is breaking out in real bloom and Rob has been showing me potato-quality Deep Space Nine (1993–99). I had tarragon-sautéed mushrooms and zucchini for dinner.
spatch and I went walking down to the Mystic and I photographed a whole lot of flowers, of which I was happiest with the ones that came out like abstracts.
The tulips had gone for psychedelia.
We dubbed this one Audrey IV.
I hadn't realized Giger had a pastel period.
I just found this one luminous.
I did not get a satisfactory picture of the painted turtle we saw swimming in the Mystic, sculling with its striped head above the water and the bright underside of its shell just visible beneath. Rob got a picture of me sitting on the bridge.
The railing belonged to the parking structure I was standing on while taking a picture of the condemned Elizabeth Grady building which during the Depression had been a silk mill. The texture of the paint reminded me of the barnacle speckling on a humpback whale.
The dead silk tulips were curling at my parents' house, where we watched the Kentucky Derby with my mother. She watched with her mother for years.
Physically I am just pretty miserable, but the lilac is breaking out in real bloom and Rob has been showing me potato-quality Deep Space Nine (1993–99). I had tarragon-sautéed mushrooms and zucchini for dinner.