Beginning again

What is it that I want to do with my Blip journal? I don't know yet. I'm still working on it. I love the journal aspect: keeping a visual record, being able to look back and remember oh yes, that day. I value the community, the friendships, peering into others' lives, that perspective. I've been looking at photos from the Hubbel Telescope, thinking about our interconnectedness and our insignificance. In this time of warmongering and climate catastrophe, of swelling fascism, of suffering brought on by human greed and delusion--what are our options, we who have discretionary time? Part of my consciousness is dazed, horrified, frozen.

I took a Lyft to photograph another campaign event for JoAnn Hardesty last night. The driver who brought me home is Eritrean. His people are starving after a three-year drought. Nobody puts the Eritrean colors on their Facebook page. Their children's deaths don't make the news.

In this time I have left (that privilege) I want to see what I haven't been seeing. I go on making photos of the grands, of Margie, of JoAnn, and of Sue when she doesn't wave me off. The texture of my life remains pretty much the same (that privilege). But what else? What do I habitually look away from or miss? Asking myself. Holding the question. For now, this brick wall in a moment of sunshine between showers. Green algae and cherry blossom petals on the sidewalk beneath the wall. This.