Another Saturday Night

And that should put another song in my head, and maybe yours, but honestly, the song in MY head, halfway, is “Night Moves” by Bob Seger, mainly because I heard it just before I turned off my car, about 30 minutes ago, after I had returned from a romp through The Lovely’s neighbors’ yard and a visit to the airport. And I had thoughts of traveling south, to seek out a Fighting Illini T-shirt with a big orange “I” on it and, of course, another one of those amazing Quatro’s pizzas, but then I decided, nah.

I wanna go home and write for a while.

And besides: There is always tomorrow, God willing.

And I had a few thoughts on God, earlier today, not long after I woke up, actually.

For the record: I do believe in God — the Christian idea of God — and Jesus. I also believe, very much, in heaven. And I believe in miracles.

I do not believe that everyone has to or even should believe in one God, the same God. I do believe I have no right to say that, because I grew up attending a Methodist church, my “religion” is any more (or less) valid than anyone else’s.

A friend of mine is Lutheran, a particular synod of the Lutheran church, and not so long ago, one of the leaders in the church faced exile or ex-communication or whatever because, post-9/11, he was in favor of taking part in a gathering of people from all faiths, or even no particular faith.

This, to me, goes against everything that I believe, in terms of religion — the fact that anyone could be criticized for embracing someone of a different faith.

When I see a flower bloom or a sun set, I believe in some kind of greater power, for sure. And maybe it is all random chaos theory, or a Big Bang (heh) or whatever, but ... I really do not believe that.

“Some things are true, whether you believe in them or not.” — Seth Plate (Nicolas Cage), City of Angels

And speaking of movies: Scarlett Johansson is rather striking in Girl with a Pearl Earring, which I am half-watching at the moment.

: )

And I must admit, I have developed quite a thing for crocuses (croci? Jim Croce?).



And today I made a couple of discoveries, one of which occurred whilst I was talking to Tee-Hee during the Illini game. We were discussing various “smart people” we know — “book smart” or “intellectual” people — and she tried to include me in this category.

“OK, yeah, I’m smart. I guess I do have an intellectual side,” I told her, “but then my creative side always comes along and distracts me.” (She said she understood that perfectly.)

: )

The second discovery occurred tonight, after shooting various flower photos — a few of which I took with the camera held away from me and angled just so, so I could get even closer to the bloom — and feeling rather UNcreative, myself, because I knew the camera was doing all the work, really. (Times like these I really, REALLY hate autofocus and miss my standard SLR ... but then, the immediacy/instant gratification aspect of the digital camera always trumps manual focus.)

I drove to the airport and decided maybe I should shoot the clouds from behind a tree or the barbed-wire fence or something. And as I looked around, I found several scraps of wood and metal, and branches, on the ground, and I decided to put them in the picture.

Because anyone can take a picture of a sunset — or, rather, a picture of the clouds in the sky right after a sunset — right?



But who else can lasso a sunset? Or would even think to, for that matter, after finding some random rusty piece of wire lying around?



And by doing so, does that make something “art”?

Meanwhile, back to the flowers — and the notion of the camera doing all the work:



I like daffodils. Or jonquils. Or whatever they are called.



: )