funk and photographs

A couple weeks ago, beloved and I went to see one of our favorite bands. Before the show, one of the musicians came over and introduced himself, expressed his gratitude that we came, and then told me he’s one of my biggest fans and mentioned that I hadn’t written much lately.

That was weird. Incredibly kind, and flattering, and humbling (we’re talking a Grammy Award-winning artist here, and from our occasional interaction on Facebook, I know he’s an intelligent and thoughtful human) but it was unexpected and I didn’t know what to say. I still don’t quite get why people want to read what comes out of my head, and the only answer I had for him was the truth: “I don’t have anything to say.” I haven’t for a while, and if you’ve followed this blog for any length of time, you know that’s not that unusual. I get in funks, and it’s hard to say much of anything at all. Nothing comes out right. Nobody wants to hear it. And the truth is, I don’t want to say anything. I just need to be quiet. This particular funk has lasted longer than most. There are days here and there–sometimes just a few hours at a time–when I feel almost normal. I can smile and laugh at work, I can play with the kids, I’m hardly debilitated… just-depleted. Quiet.

I take a lot of pictures, though. I try to capture the happy in little snapshots, so I can hold on to it for later. Here again are a few snapshots of happy. Several of these were taken by beloved; you’ll likely be able to tell which ones they are, but I’ll note them anyway.

So anyway, I wrote a little something earlier, and maybe I’ll find more to say as the weather starts turning back toward summer, but until then, here’s a little happy I’ll share with you.