Still Life

A scooped out passion fruit

I was mucking about with still life in mind a few weeks ago, and now all of a sudden this seems highly appropriate.

I've been trying to occupy myself by backing up all my photos. It's such a mindless task, perfectly suited to when you need to mull things over. Being deep in thought sometimes works better when there is something else going on.

So I've been thinking about what to do, about how lovely people (that's you, and youandyouandyou) can be in times of need, how it's not the end but a transition. All the usual self-absorbed crap you'll generally find up here only now you know my mind is soaked in sedatives, so perhaps I can be forgiven a little. And anyway, anyone left alone for too long can run the risk of becoming tediously introspective. I salute all of you who consistently avoid tedium and self-indulgence, and frequently create quite beautiful words from silence or solitude. You are amazing.

No way is this going to become a blow-by-blow withdrawal site. As it will take some years, I simply couldn't subject myself, or anyone else to a daily account of what is going on in my body.
I won't even get an appointment to discuss what to do next for a month or so at least. So please don't all run away.

The sites I have read where someone is going through a medication change have usually been managed with dignity, humour and a large helping of consideration for readers. I have taken these observations on board.

As we go into winter (yes, I know, not yet, but personally I can't wait) I've decided to pick up a second-hand lightbox and experiment more with still life images. It should keep me amused and prove a diversion from all those flowers. As I archive everything I realise why macro photography has become my thing. It suits the slowed down body and mind very well. Your subjects don't move, you can photograph them from a scooter or wheelchair, (or soon, the kitchen table) and take your time.

It's amazing how we adapt to our circumstances, really, isn't it? And sometimes without even realising it.

Onwards.