And they saw the star, and followed

Today while walking in the city I saw a silver star on a silver crepe streamer in the gutter. It looked like one of those old woodcuts of Halley's Comet (back before it was called Halley's, or even a comet). It was such a sudden and unexpected sight, simultaneously tawdry and beautiful; I wished I'd brought my camera. I've been having a lot of those moments lately, and this one finally crystallised vague intentions into action.

For a long while I've been wanting to do some photo projects based around the city - the architecture, the alleyways, the doors and windows to other places. The way the buildings and the trees frame each other, the way the light falls just so today, at this moment, in this place. The stories I make up about the things I see discarded, like the black milk crate on the black tarp by the side of the freeway (the mojo trap). Some of it will be reference photos for things I'm writing; some of it will be just for the heck of it, to appease the imaginary-photo-taking cravings of my heart or brain or throat or whatever.

From tomorrow, I don't leave home without the camera. Also, where possible, I leave enough time in going from point A to point B that if I stop and take a few photos along the way I don't wind up stressed and running late ;). Since there's only so many things to say about work ("Today there were books on mesmerism and parapsychology!" "Why are law books so damn heavy? And dusty?"), and talking about unfinished stories seems like bad juju (or at least diverts my energy away from actually finishing them), this may even generate some non-ranty, non-song/game/timewasting posts. WHO KNOWS. :P