Little Bill

In the process of cleaning my apartment, I’ve come across a box of unsorted negatives — some of which were taken as recently as six months ago, others taken before the millennium. After lengthy discussion with my friend Ramon this past holiday weekend, it occurred to me that I wonder how photos I’d taken in my past would look now that my skills in editing have improved — both traditionally in the darkroom or digitally in Photoshop. Would I find jewels in that I might have discarded before?

Taking that thought a bit further it makes me wonder how incidents in my past, particularly relationships, might’ve been handled were I the person that I am today. For instance, with you, would I have let a doomed yearlong relationship linger as long as it had? That, much as a great companion you were, we just weren’t meant to be together? Fortunately we’re still friends. Or you, when I overreacted when your friend played the I’m a better friend than you, so back off card against me? That I showed you some of my insecurities and you mistook them for weakness of character? Or you who, on paper, was the perfect companion with everything I could look for except that spark, lacking any bit of edge whatsoever to keep my attention? Maybe I was too quick to judge?

We’ll never know. At least now I won’t feel that I’ve left things unsaid.

Still, much as I have grown, much as I have learned from my past transgressions and my skills have improved, I’m quite aware and nostalgic for the times when I lacked the experience I had. The times when coming across that one jewel in the rough along the dozens of misfires were a special moment of serendipity. Oh well, the upside is, I’m still making mistakes and will continue to do so. After all, that’s life, right?

Little Bill: snaps a photo.
Kitty: "what?"
Little Bill: "what ninja feet would look like if they took to selective breeding."
Kitty: LOLZ

Two arms holding on. Two legs pumping. Two feet on two pedals relentlessly propelling two wheels forward. Two speeds: stop and go. Two ways to breathe: inhale and exhale. Two more times around the lake. Laps around the lake: something one cannot do in New York City.

Still I ride.

A week in the hometown house and dog-sitting for my mother and father while they’re in Korea and Montréal, respectively. Ticking clock reminds me again how precious time is, especially in a place like this — where it’s slowed to a crawl. There are no complaints; the slow life is welcome from time-to-time and I’m feeling refreshed. Some things are much easier to take care of in this environment.

Working on a few photography projects while I’m here. I figured if I’m going to spend a week in my hometown and, more specifically, in the house where I grew up, I should take advantage creatively. More to come. Also, I’m working on a small freelance design project for American Idol, which is nice. Good to not feel too idle while I’m here, both with my fulltime job and freelance work on the side.

Might be purchasing a new road bike too, which is good. I love my mountain bike but it’s too heavy and not as fun to ride in the city as I’d hoped.

If I pick it up tomorrow I’m taking it for a ride around the lake. Cannot wait.