After an extended hiatus from kosland, I feel like I'm coming back to some foreign place. It looks like home, but isn't quite what I remember, even though the faces and personalities are the same. Since a flurry of diary writing over the summer, things have changed here in my little corner of Western Kentucky, and not so much for the better. I've found one thing in particular that's helped me stay sane since August, and that, strangely enough, is my camera.
Whether it's my iPhone's camera, or my wee little point-and-shoot, I've got a camera on me 'round the clock now, and it shows. During our snowstorms (landmark events for this Mississippi native) I found myself taking pictures of the most mundane things you could imagine:
The broom I was using to sweep snow off of the car...
And once I got comfortable with the iphone app 'Instagram,' I took pictures like the world was on fire. It's been amazing. If the sun's up, and I'm in the passenger seat, I'm taking pictures:
Nashville church on Sunday morning
A Gulf Oil sign outside of Nashville
Of course, I still take pictures of food:
Particularly when I can gin up a reference to a favorite film -
"Leave the gun. Take the cannoli."
And of myself, particularly when the weather's good:
I still have a vein of vanity. Sue me.
But my passion for taking pictures of buildings and landmarks in the small town where I live is what's strongest. Believe me, there's no love lost between me and most of the people of Western Kentucky. I try - I fight like the devil - to surround myself with those few people here who believe in peace and justice and creating a better place for all of us, and not just those with less melanin, more money, and a dogeared KJV. When I really take a moment to look beyond the rather dingy outer layer, I find that we do have some lovely vistas here:
Main Street
Windows on Main
Monument at Riverside Cemetery
Latham funeral home storage at Riverside
Even in places you don't immediately think of as being particularly photogenic - like the back of the buildings on Main Street:
The graves of Confederate war dead came together pretty nicely:
And, as always, given my love for railroads, I had to take one photo that would let me frame a trip in my mind. A trip far, far away from the insanity that surrounds us all right now.
No, this isn't my 'usual' kind of diary. Hell, even in the GulfWatchers block party diaries, I have to tell a story. And it's not that I've given up on writing, oh no. I think it's more that I've discovered I can tell a story without typing.