I like this photo a lot. I like it for several reasons. A big reason is that it's of my beautiful wife. Another reason is the pained expression on her face. Why would I like that? Because it's unique. The photo has weight. I'd like to think that a good photo expresses a lot about what you're not seeing.
Stop and think to yourself why she might be having that expression. Did I ask Jess to pose with that emotion? Feel free to post a comment of what you think.
The truth is that the photo actually is an honest moment of clashing emotions. For the preceding minutes, I'd been taking photos of her in the living room in her pretty dress. She was delighted at the attention, and I was excited about the wonderful lighting.
Then we heard a little ripping sound coming from the couch. I swung around and saw Renton (the cat) digging his claws into our new sofa. I yelled, he darted into our studio, I went after him, but as I entered the studio, he was running back out again and I went to stop him with my foot and ended up kicking him pretty hard. In the face.
I could feel myself bubbling inside with anger and shame as Renton darted toward the kitchen. I turned around and looked at Jess. Even in the despair of that moment, I recognized the opportunity and took the photo before Jess had a moment to move.
I couldn't just ignore the fact that I had kicked Renton in the face, so then I went off to look for him. I didn't have to look far--he was under our bed. It took a while to get him out. I looked at his face, which was fine. No damage. No kitty tears. I was relieved, but anchored by regret.
So that's the story behind the picture. I will give $5 to anyone who thought that before reading the truth.
Oh, and in case you were wondering why Jess was all dolled up, we recently celebrated our 3 year wedding anniversary. It's been a great 3 years. I'm looking forward to the next 60ish.
One more heart-felt tid bit: I went skating with my longboard today. I've had a harder time having fun with it the last couple years. I don't really have the time or the balls to do crazy stuff anymore, so sometimes I get bored with it.
Today I decided to switch it up and ride goofy instead of regular. For anyone who is unfamiliar, that means that I usually ride with my left foot forward (called Regular) but I rode the opposite (called Goofy) today.
Why is that significant? It's basically like throwing away 14 years of cultivated skateboard coordination and returning to the fear of a wobbling beginner. Usually it'd frustrate me, but today I embraced it. When you start over, victories are easier to come by, since it doesn't take as much effort to get as far as you were before. It was theraputic for my mind and body.
It's like breaking both your arms and then being overcome with joy because you wrote a poem by tapping computer keys with your nose.
Those little victories happen everyday, all day long, but I take them for granted.
Don't forget that breathing is a victory.
"Actually Tom, I forgot already. That's such a lame Hallmark card thing to say. You suck."
Yep, I suck BIG time.
The above drawing, or at least the right side of it, was inspired by a guy I met on the street yesterday named Kirk. I'm happy about it. I forgot how weighty true character is. I had lost faith in them for some time.
