As
a writer--also as an artist—I spend a lot of time sitting. They
used to say that was to way to succeed, nail your ass down, and
write, write, write. Unfortunately, I've known a lot of people who
took that advice, ruined their health, and dropped dead just at it
looked like all their years of hard work (and sitting) were going to
pay off.
I
can't really sit for very long. I've always been restless. After
sitting and typing for a while, I get the itch to get up, and shake out
my creaky skeleton, that get creakier as time goes by. And sitting too
long actually hurts these days.
So,
I regularly get up, and take a few laps around the inside of house. I
also do yoga, stretches, some light weight work. Somehow it turned
into an exercise routine. And it must work, because my doctor said
I'm in “tip-top” condition for my age. Maybe I'll live long
enough to see my hard work pay off.
But
now, and then, the weather gets too nice to shuffle around inside, so
I go out into yards, that here at Hacienda Hogan, are the gardens of
my wife, the fabulous Emily Devenport. They
are chock full of plants, artifacts, and geological samples.
Wandering among them fires my imagination. Often, I end up grabbing my
phone, and taking pictures.
I
never liked traditional photography, with all it's fussing over
settings and chemical complications. Digital with it's
point-and-shoot simplicity is more my speed. “Photography is Zen
Buddhism,” as William Burroughs said.
Maybe
it's my art education, but where other people see snapshots, I tend
to see more than ordinary reality. I come up with surrealist
compositions, poetic statements, even cartoons.
It
gets me in trouble when I try to do documentary realism, nonfiction,
or mainstream anything, but it makes my life so much better.
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