Originally uploaded by lorenzodom
Everything is in flux today.
I seem to be transitioning. Seem to be because I’m not really sure of anything right now, and “transitioning” sounds like an appropriate euphemism at this juncture.
Many things are out of whack right now—my boss is indefinitely out on leave; I spent all morning moving my office to a new space; the art exhibit that I’ve been working on for months may not happen after all; I’ve got a rather annoying case of acute bronchitis; and there ain’t no love in my life (at least, not the kind that keeps you warm, happy and healthy on cold nights…).
Moreover, I haven’t taken pictures in earnest for a couple of weeks now, and have written just as infrequently. Albeit my father was in town for a week, I had care of the kids for most of those days, and I focused on renovating my apartment during that time as well, there was still a little time here and there when I could have accomplished some creative work.
Alas, the inspiration just wasn’t there.
This morning I started to get the itch again though. I was walking from Port Authority down Eight Avenue to work and the metropolis was waking up—brimming with urban beauty, as it stretched and yawned and began to irk and pique and inspire the hustlers who were going to and fro.
And although I really didn’t have the energy, with practically every step I was inspired and moved and yearned to takeout my camera and take pictures. Alas, I didn’t want to be late to work (again) and I didn’t want a hundred more photos to edit.
Nonetheless and allthemore, I took note of the amazing things I saw and took pictures of all of them, if only with my mind—I took one of the guy dressed up in an all-red zoot suit, apparently just in town for a pimp convention (they actually have those you know); a few as I passed the line of colorful day-laborers on the corner of Eight and 36th, waiting for a chance to earn a few honest dollars while scrubbing toilets, food prepping, stocking, doing things that a lot of others are not willing to do; an upward side-shot as I walked with the woman who suddenly got a call on her cell phone and burst into this bright, almost inspirational, smile as she bid good morning to a good friend; another one as I was approaching the three DHL guys dressed entirely in red and yellow, pushing delivery carts in the middle of the street while crossing 34th; and then there was my favorite shot of the accidental tourist whose light-blue suitcase perfectly complemented the giant and slightly-darker blue scrawl of graffiti on the steel storefront doors that stood behind her.
One after another, I saw and appreciated several exquisite city scenes this morning. The positive experience motivated me to bust out of this rut I’m in.
The last time that I was in a mood like this, I posted an image that was all black. This time, I chose to make it indicative of my emerging mood, a gradient shift from all-gloom to off-white—not only reflecting the changing color of the sky at sunrise this morning, but also to suggest that there is an underlying optimism beneath my otherwise brooding demeanor—because I’m confident that the sun will eventually shine through.
Maybe that’s why I see myself as “transitioning,” rather than simply feeling stuck in the upheaval, caught in the mire of life’s trials and tribulations, anchored in the storm that is my life.
“A pessimist is one who makes difficulties of his opportunities and an optimist is one who makes opportunities of his difficulties.” Harry S. Truman