Everything is the same shade

I geeked out big time for a while tonight watching Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex. I sometimes put my love for Motoko Kusanagi by the wayside, but when I see her in action it all comes flooding back. There's this part in the second box set when she's standing outside in a hospital parking lot at night and the sun is just about to set, and everything is flooded with this deep yellow-orange light and it's nearly overwhelming to me with its creation of a mood I can taste and smell and almost wrap my hands around. Lately I feel so tuned in to color. I think I mumbled something about that in an earlier post and didn't expound upon it; what I mean is, while I may not be fully synesthetic, sometimes I am so overwhelmed by color that it floods everything else, to the point where it's difficult to function, to hold my head up and breathe and be. I can't explain it well. But the color orange can turn me inside out sometimes. Maybe I'll write more about that in the future, maybe I won't, I don't know. I'm sort of drunk right now so tonight's not the night to expound on my effed up neural processes.

The weather continues to be amazing, wonderful, beautiful, all those adjectives you say when you really like a thing. I really like the weather. The humidity has dropped to around fifty percent, quite a change from the eight-five percent it was hovering at for three months and making life miserable. I took a walk today at lunch and didn't get out of breath once. When I got home this evening, I poked around in my picture-taking trance. Thanks to some kind people on Flickr, I've figured out how to get into super macro mode on my camera, and took some pictures of what interested me in my yard. New set on Flickr here. It's not very organized, but you can kind of see what I was doing. Hopefully those super macro skills will improve.

Okay, I believe I promised some of you pictures of my wretched bathroom. How geeky am I if I clean it before I take pictures of it? I did. I was too embarrassed. Here you can see a fine example of the gaping hole where the medicine chest goes, as well as the busted vent and the showerhead and the gnasty-as-hell walls with some of the paint stripped off but the rest still clinging on for dear life.



And here are the tools that are hopefully going to help us fix this mess that I've created. It's great having two brothers who work in construction. With any luck I can convince M to belt-sand the rest of the paint off the walls tomorrow; he's off work and I'm not. He was also supposed to wash the bedding today because of a little early-morning, erm, "indiscretion" that got the sheets sort of bodily-fluidy, as in right on my fucking pillow, but he didn't wash them so now I have to sleep in...

Ahem. Anyway. So that's the bathroom. It's a mess, and hopefully soon I'll be posting some "after" pics that are a whole lot less ugly.

I have to set some kind of rule for myself. I have a limited amount of time each day in which I can be creative. Lately, I have an unlimited supply of creativity. Which usually means that what I do with that creativity comes out in a big jumbled mess with no self-editing. It's all been poured into photography lately, but I want to channel some of it back into writing, because I have a story brewing that I want/need to put down but there simply haven't been enough hours in the day lately. I think I've got to force myself to put the camera down and remove myself from the room it's in if I'm going to get anything else done.

It's late. I'd better go to bed. Somebody tell me to put my damn camera down so I can get stuff done...