Snapped that pic two winters ago, with my battletank Zenit SLR.
Walking the neighbourhood, and discovered the chair behind a warehouse. First pic I intended for posting here. I had intended to start up the blog with a character sketch. A burned-out, used-up, hopeless-feeling robot-worker's moment's rest. Would've prob'ly been some prattling rant...done stream o'consciousness'like, for the breathless quality. Maybe a clumsy poem.
AS A LIST — a to-do list would be the thing rattling thru robot-worker's idling mind...
Never did get to it. Got busier, and doing more pressing stuff. Protagonize happened. Other scribblings, too. Time ticked on in the blog. Earth spun around the sun, and the sun a spinning top itself, slow-turning in one outer arm of our galactic merry-go-round we're barely aware we're riding. That's still more than just a chair. But now I feel I'm outside, looking in. Pale winter's morning. Someone else's grainy life.
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