I’m getting back to reality now. It’s a hot morning in The Hague. Thunder storms are predicted. I’ve just done a half hour of yoga. I’ve showered. I’m sitting at the computer (the Mac, now that my precious PC was turfed while I was in Canada). I have a soy milk latte in one hand. A spoon and bowl of oatmeal in the other (I’m typing with my tongue). I feel awake. Refreshed. Fed. Caffeinated. But here I am. Just sitting. Staring at the computer screen. Drooling a little. I’m struggling to know where to start.
I think I’m experiencing writer’s block. And I know why: my camera *whimper* is gone. Now that I’ve lost my camera *whimper* my approach to writing needs to change. Before I would take a lot of pictures, keep them stored on the camera’s memory card, and flick through them when I needed some writing inspiration. Now I need to go trolling through my old photos on dusty computer files. It’s not the same. The memories aren’t as fresh. Ah, it’s no big deal. It’s just different is all. My camera *whimper* was a great writing tool. It was an extension of my diary. I had it with me all the time. And now I feel lost without it.
Why don’t you buy another one, Nicole? I will. Eventually. But I’m having two issues with buying a new one. The first is that I feel so guilty for having lost it that before I’m allowed to get a new one I think I need to suffer for a little while. Penance. I must have Catholic blood. Second – and stay with me here – is I almost feel like I’ve lost a pet. Ok, this is probably a little melodramatic, but I know people who struggle to get a new pet right after having lost one. And that’s how I feel. I don’t really want a new one right away. I actually feel a sentimental attachment to my lost camera *whimper*. I miss it. Strange…
Should I just go out and buy a new one? What kind should I get? Should it be the same make and model as before? I’m not so sure. How could I use it knowing that this “new” camera *whimper* is an impostor? Perhaps I should splurge and buy one that is NEW! and IMPORVED! But I’m a fraid I would feel like I was replacing my good ol’ camera *whimper*. That the little guy is probably in some Manitoba hay field being kicked about by a group of Hutterites, afraid of getting their picture taken. While here I am cavorting with a younger, sexier model. I’m telling you, it’s not an easy choice. So for now, I think I just suffer. And invite you along for the miserable ride. If you’re still reading at all.
In an effort to get past this fourth stage of mourning for a lost pet (the internet never ceases to amaze me), I have decided that a sift through my old photos (the ones I managed to save on my computer before I lost my camera *whimper*) might be good therapy. It might show me that I still have lots of photos of past events that I can blog about. It might show me that I can indeed cope without my camera *whimper*; that I am not creatively paralyzed now that my little guy is gone.
Here is a nice photo of Summer at a champagne party she threw last year. Doesn’t she look cheery? She starts her interior design course in September.
Here is a nice photo of my good friend Hannah who came to visit me last year. She’s with Jantje, a local celebrity statue.
Oh, and here is a nice photo of my mother and my brother-in-law’s mother at a family barbecue last year. Don’t they look cute in their matching tops?
Here is a nice photo of a mannequin I saw in the window of a men’s shirt shop. He has funny wrists.
Here is a nice photo of my friends Cecilia and Marga at a bar in Jerez, Spain. I wonder what they are talking about?
Here is a nice photo of Hannah- again on her visit. Is there a man in that armour?
Here is a nice photo of some funny brush-head mannequins. Who the hell thought of this? Perhaps some crazy person.
And are some nice pictures of myself in a mirror. Don’t I look happy?