Darkroom Diaries

I'm taking a photography class to satisfy my creative urges. Music & dance are lulling a bit and The Pink Room is closed for renovations. I used to be an art major once you know. But my Venus must have been in retrograde because I became incredibly indecisive about burnt amber, shading techniques, what angle to sketch on the angle of a cube, etc... I simply lacked conviction. It's also full circle for me. In high school, photography was serving the same purpose. I desperately needed a new medium and there it was in black-n-white. The science of it all was a relief. Surprisingly enough, it still is today. I live in the dark room. Strange things happen there in "Mars," as I like to call it. Time is folded in half and I come out with gray hair, a meager 4 prints, and into the night. Developing is a whole other planet. Or just outer space. Blindness. I'm a terrible blind person, fumbling with things that can hurt. Scissors & can openers. Anyway, I'm loving darkness. It's not pretty. It stinks actually. Lots of toxic chemicals. Very Dr. Frankenstein. He had creative urges, too. Hopefully, with a little luck and trays full of conviction, I will create a print that's luminous and alive.