I have been cranking up the whine-factor on Project 365 lately. I am not the only one. All of us who started at New Years are out of inspiration and just ready for it to be over. I feel silly, self-inflicted pressure every day, wondering if I will find a shot, and can’t imagine another hundred days (ummm, yeah, I know it’s more than a hundred, let me just pretend ok?). I don’t have cute toddlers or a wooded backyard or all day long to take photos. I have cobwebs and dog poop and dust on everything. I’ve been doubling up on my blogs, which I have been trying to justify, because really, who keeps two (three) blogs?
Last week (cue rambling) they moved two cool old houses in Davis, down the street from the studio. One has a red door and red windows with leaded panes. I saw them on the street, and I didn’t have my camera. I felt regret. They were in the street for hours, and I didn’t take time away from work to get some photos with my iPhone. They next day, I had my camera, and didn’t stop to get some pictures. I checked out the red door to nowhere, but I was being a lazy-ass. Every day I intend to stop, and every day I conjure up a reason to pass.
Today I finally stopped to take the photos. I was too late. Too late in the day, and too late in the process. The chain link fence went up between the my pondering and procrastination. The photos weren’t very good. And I felt like I blew it. Not that anyone would know, or care. But I knew, and I kind of sort of cared.
And then the train went by. The one with all the graffiti. The one I have been meaning to shoot for the past eight months. And it stopped. So I chased it down.
And that, and this, is why I do Project 365. Because at the end of the day, I am more interested in surprise than regret.