May 17, 2019:
Documentation of the neighborhood. House numbers: ours, the sitters', friends. What the horizon looks like. What the canyon looks like. What the weather looks like.
I'm trying to root myself, to find stability in a place, where it was lacking in our family. But it's another chimera: in no time we're uprooted again, a new neighborhood, new schools, new horizon, all in failed search of a distant adult's false fragile friendship.
Today I do far more of this. My contemporary iPhone camera is massively better than my 1960s Instamatic; and there's no processing fee. Now I document houses, horizons, deer eating grass shoots, squirrels, plus the important things: guitars, bongs, furniture, the objects that are imprinted with emotional significance. Still trying to root myself, still helplessly failing.