On Kathimerina Fotografia v. 2010

Tonight we cross off the last day of 2009, cast off any residual dredges of the past 365 days, and begin anew. 2010 looms fresh and unsoiled, free of mistakes, heartbreak, disappointment. It is time to begin projects, make resolutions, reconstruct your outlook on the direction and path you travel, and to embrace the next chapter.

In that spirit I give you a project of my own. It shall be known as "Kathimerina Fotografia: 365" (which I am told by the online Greek translator I googled moments ago means "daily photograph"). Perhaps you've heard of Project 365 (see example here) or L'Image Quotidienne (get info here). Both feature the same idea: to take one photo, every day, in an attempt to chronicle the day-to-day events that comprise our lives. It can be a photo of a person, a place, a ticket stub, a taxi cab, anything you like. Simply choose a subject that in some way signifies your day (for instance, I will be purging my bedroom of excessive things this weekend; perhaps you'll be privy to a large pile of clothes -- time will tell!).

So, beginning tomorrow, I will post the first of 365 images, all of which will, in the end, lend credence to my 2010 experience (I hope). I don't know yet if I will post them daily, collect them over the span of seven days and post a large batch weekly, etc. The details will decide themselves as we go along!

Oh, and why a Greek title you may ask? I have no idea. Simply seemed like a good idea at the time. I imagine that sentiment will become a theme during the course of this project.

On my Nikon D60. And playing with it. Squish was there too.

This is my younger sister, Squish. She's a pretty rockin' suburban cowgirl.



And a great model/photo backdrop to boot.






She complained after my Christmas tree/Home Depot post that she didn't get any sort of billing (though let the record show she did in fact accompany us on that expedition). So here you go, Squish.


You and your feet get your very own, cameo appearance. (Poor kid, doesn't even know what day of the week it is. Let it be known this photoshoot happened on a Sunday.)

On what I hate most about working in an office.

Imagine with me for a moment....

You're walking down the hall of your basic office facility. Perhaps you're returning from the break room with a much needed cuppa joe in hand, thinking nothing more of this brief respite from your desk other than excitement for more caffeine, or how forcefully the fluorescent lights glare down upon you today. Then it happens: a coworker - one you've met before, but can't recall his name - appears on the other end of the hall. He walks slowly, not noticing you at first. But, inevitably, he looks up and you lock eyes. Quickly, you avert your gaze, not wanting him to think you were staring, but then you think, "Wait, I should nod, or smile, acknowledge his presence. Don't be weird." And so you do, and yes it's a little awkward, but not so bad.

However then you realize that there are still several feet of uniquely patterned, "office chic" carpet between you. You can't just continue to make forced eye contact with this person, smiling maniacally like an escaped circus clown. (Isn't that a sign of aggression in some cultures?) So you quickly feign interest in the color of the adjacent wall, glance through the open door you pass on your right, pretend you're suddenly wildly entertained by the steam rising from your black coffee. Furtively, you sneak a glance at your hall-mate; is he looking just as uneasy as you feel?

Yes. He is.

It's still too soon to break the silence. If you don't speak loudly enough, he won't be certain you're speaking to him, and then it looks like you're just a psychotic "loner" who keeps the voices in her head company by addressing them aloud.

Two more steps (could this hall be any longer?). Then, the moment. You pass, left shoulder to left shoulder.

"Hey, how's it going?"

"Oh fine, you?"

But by this point you're already several strides beyond the acceptable point at which to answer his return greeting. And so you remain quiet, his polite query forever hanging in the expanding space between you.

It's over. You grimace at how uncomfortably such situations always seem to play out, wonder "what would Emily Post do?" A quick shrug, and you're back within the relatively safe confines of your desk.

On Home Depot and Christmas trees.

It seems only fitting that on this eve of Christmas, we should take a moment to discuss the fine art of Christmas tree purchasing. My family and I traditionally go up to a sanctioned portion of the forest, and pick out a tree worthy of the Charlie Brown holiday special. Typically rather bare and sparse in the branch department, these trees are beloved. This year we were unable to make the trek up the mountain due to adverse driving conditions and below-frigid temperatures. Which naturally left us one option: Home Depot.



Surprisingly enough, their selection was decent. We shopped about for about twenty seconds before our fingers froze and our standards dropped and we settled on a beautiful specimen...though a bit too full-branched for our traditional tastes.


This kind gentleman chopped off the excess trunk, and packaged her up. Watch closely...





























Did you miss it?

Now encased in mesh twine (to preserve the integrity of the neatly maintained cone shape), we wheeled the sucker out of there and loaded her up.


In the end I found that what truly makes Christmas tree buying memorable is words of wisdom like these.


Can't sum it up much better than that.

Merry Christmas everyone.

On outlets.

Phil Novack is a runner. A runner who suffered an injury so severe his doctor forbade him to run. Running was his outlet, his means of working through the patterns of thought that swarmed about his brain. When this outlet became temporarily unattainable, Phil had to create a new one, or face a life inherently more difficult to navigate. So he began to write.

I've never met Phil, we're connected by nothing more than social media and have never even so much as exchanged a mutual hello. However, his blog "Running Buddy" (check it out here) in a strange way gave me insight into my own recent attempt at understanding. He writes:

"So if you’re currently sidelined, unable to run or exercise, I recommend writing down your thoughts. It will get you motivated for the next step on your challenge, give you a record by which you can look back at your progress, and perhaps most importantly, clear some space for the other thoughts that are fighting for some room in your constantly active mind. You’ll feel much better for it, and at the end of the day, it will make your road to recovery seem just a little bit shorter."

I want this blog to be a similar record, but for very different reasons. Life will throw you trick after trick, and in a lot of instances, you get injured - physically, emotionally - by the curveballs. Putting your thoughts into order and placing them directly in front of you gives you some sort of yardstick by which to measure how you react and how you move forward. It shows that no matter how hard a situation, you survived, and you became a better, stronger individual for it. And that's the goal in the end, to evolve.

So I hope that this blog will become a measurement of success, hardship and ultimately, evolution to the next tier of life.

On questions.

We all struggle to find answers. We all struggle to glean meaning from the seemingly random, unconnected events that evolve in our days and often change our lives forever. This day one year ago looked different in every way from the landscape that spreads before us today. As such, questions, doubts, fear can so easily crop up and tint the view.

The trick is to remember that optimism, excitement, anticipation need to have an equal - if not a greater - footing in our outlooks. All fear and consternation makes for is a bleak sort of attempt at life.

I've been thinking a lot about what I want this blog to be; where I should be taking it. In part, I don't know how to answer this question because I don't really know in what direction I want to be taking life in general. I feel I'm on the precipice of a lot of changes, a lot of transitions that are both being forced on me, and that I'm incurring myself. Partly I think this state of mind is called "being twenty-something," however lately it's been more than that. The goals and aspirations I once set before me are now out of reach, and so I find it's time to find a new focus. What that focus is and where it will lead me are still forthcoming. So, I hope that whomever reads this blog will be patient as I discern the path best suited to my own twenty-something universe.

In the meantime, check out this project:

Six Sentences

Sometimes confining a story to six sentences can spark longer-form inspiration. Sometimes, six sentences is all you need.