There are dark and mysterious forces at work that are beyond comprehension—the recluse went to a gallery opening alone—no one drug me there kicking and screaming. Jeeze, I hated attending openings with Janet but it was necessary so I went. I drank scotch and made Janet drive home. I hate openings. I hate scotch. Not sure how I figured that two bads made one good. But had I drank whiskey I would have enjoyed myself I would much rather have been miserable all over.
Met with NWHPC for the rodeo parade shoot breakfast, even went down to do a few shots. Took very few photograph but got two that I might keep but stopped on Washington and shot some new graffiti as I left. And got to assist some little lady that was having trouble with the temperature gauge on her car. The world is pretty nice at times, I'd about forgotten that people actually can talk to each other.
Came home and worked on setting up a web site of sorts for my people photography. Then the unthinkable, actually got dressed, got in the car and drove over to the opening.
There are ulterior reasons for the opening—they rent studios and I wanted to take a look. Went to a movie on Renoir and came home wanting to shoot nudes. Went to a gallery and came home wanting to look into what everyone has been trying to get me to do for so long—finding a gallery. I got over the nude thing and will probably get over this. Of course, if I can find a studio that I can rent reasonably, I might do both.
|Don't know Wiley, but he sure seems to get around|