:: Searching for Puck... ::

:: Monday, October 14, 2002 ::

Life is something like a darkbag.

A darkbag is a piece of photo equipment. It has two sleeves that go from the elbow down, into a lightproof bag at the bottom of it all. The purpose is that you throw your film, your canister to hold it, the reels to wind it around, sissors to cut it with, and a can opener to open it with into this darkbag and have to assemble it, through feel alone.

That's how it's been. Tenative probing at something that was familiar once, but seems alien sometimes when it's jumbled amongst other things. I know how to do it, my hands are sure of the procedure and ways to make it happen. But sometimes, the film curls the wrong way or light gets into the bag and ruins what you're working on. A living sentient being working against the chance-guided whims of the inanimate.

Increasingly, I want to come and cocoon myself in my blankets at home and sleep. 4, 6, 8...earlier these days, it seems. I don't *feel* depressed, only worried at times. It is the worst feeling in the world to be helpless. I've never been helpless. I've always known what to do, how to make it better. How do you repair something when you don't even know where it's broken?

Guide my hands and heart, Mother. Something that you believe in, truly believe in, cannot go awry.

~Fox Mackenzie
:: Fox 10/14/2002 11:38:00 AM [Say what?] ::
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