For the past couple of years I have collected autumn leaves that have freshly fallen. I usually tuck them in the pages of a book and they become pleasant little surprises when I open a leafed book. This year I was going to do that and photograph them using a great ultra macro lens I bought for my Nikon camera. I picked up vibrant or interesting leaves, set them on my dining room table that has become my mini photo studio, and...nothing. Within a few hours the leaves dry and shrivel. Plus, that great lens is less great because I have cataracts and I can't see well enough to closely focus on whatever I put in front of that lens. But, I can use a different lens and take pictures of leaves that are still attached to a tree. This one was taken in October when I went on a photo trip to the Leelenau Peninsula. The leaves are importantly predictable. They mark the beginnings of withering daylight and hard cold that eventually slips gently into longer days and green. I hate the cold and the dark. I sang 4 concerts this past weekend, fully masked. There were 80 of us onstage, shoulder to shoulder. We were all masked and vaccinated, but Omicron now stands in the wings. Who knows when it will enter and how it will change us. The leaves loosened by fading sunlight and cold temperatures are predictable and at least dazzle us with color. Covid isn't predictable and it doesn't dazzle.
December 8, 2021
I feel such an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. At least once a day I think, “I can’t possibly do this another day/week/month/year.” I’m not even sure what “do this” means... but I can’t help but think I’m missing out on the prime of my life and even as hard as I try to do all the things to keep going and take care of my physical/mental health, it feels like a ride a terrifying wave of feelings and emotions each day. I feel like I can accomplish a lot in one day through remote school and work but more and more it feels meaningless. I think I’ll cry the next time I sit in a classroom or I stand in a concert hall if/when it ever happens.
February 16, 2021