Zen in a Lunatic World

My parking garage has the worst lighting on the planet for photography. Now I know why they shoot in giant, white rooms with thirty Profoto lights and create composite photographs with multiple exposures. I have a new found respect for motor vehicle photographers after trying to shoot my Ducati 696+ for a holiday card competition sponsored by Ducati. The reflections, the harsh florescent lights and the countless cars trying to run me over made it impossible to take a single good photo. Fair enough. It did make me wish I had been able to take a photo of the mechanic’s beautiful garage in Rome; it was like a scene out of a movie.

On days like today, when the world seems like it is on fire with lunacy (cholera in Haiti, missle-tossing in Korea, economic meltdown in the EU, Bristol Palin making it to the finals of Dancing with the Stars), it is so important to reflect on the little things that make us feel safe and content. For me, I like the smell of frankincense (reminds me of evenings spent as an altar boy), the taste of cherry chocolates and candlelight. The dark days of November in Canada require each of us to dig in until the lights of Christmas provide softer evenings.

I have not really had much of a chance to prepare for the idea of the March break adventure to Peru. I am sure that it will be a good opportunity to take photos of insects and frogs, but beyond that it seems far distant and fuzzy. The trip to New Orleans in December is a little more immediate, and I know that I am so looking forward to eating good food, hearing some great jazz and letting the daily life just pass by for a week.

The photos for today’s blog entry were taken while camping during the first week of November. Nothing particularly exceptional or important, but each image represents a moment I found for myself; a moment of Zen when I was alone with nothing but the thing I was looking a through my camera lens. Tonight, I vote for some hot chocolate, mincemeat tarts, and snuggly puppies trying to beg as many carrots from me as possible. The light may be dwindling, but when it does shine it does so all the more brightly.

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