I needed a book-end for the semester's worth of books I was setting up for a shot. The rum just went with the charcoal I had just started about a dozen feet away and outdoors. Grilled salmon on the menu.
I'm still thinking of a proper title and text for this shot. That's how I work sometimes.
"Blue Drop" started as a reflection on anger--anger that's stultifying--and with those photos of the small blue mask underwater stacked in my mind. I moved the photos from memory, in the organic and technical senses, onto the page, started a mini-story in between, and there it is. I'm still working on that entry too. (I must have tinkered with the wording--especially adding, cutting, and re-adding, and then revising the last two paragraphs--a dozen times in small ways, but that's all part of the fun. Draft in motion.)
If you are intrigued by what I've said about "Blue Drop," please go here.
