Tuesday, there is nothing to record, but it does exist.

"Tuesday, there is nothing to record, but it does exist." This sentence is taken from Jean-Paul's [la Nausee]. I first read this sentence in the book of photographer Daido Moriyama. I'm not in the habit of writing, and I write occasionally. It's all the same, but no matter whether I record anything or not, time passes by me overwhelmingly, and this matter will not change. I'm not interested in recording what happened to me after time passed. If I am more passionate about life, maybe I will try to do more similar things, which is a bit like a creature caught in the torrent of time. Although it shows different faces every day, it is actually only a part of reflecting the essence of life.

In the morning, I got up in the house where I lived for more than a year, sleepy, and my neck and shoulders were still exhausted. I threw the summer with nightmares out of bed, brushed up my powerful skills of closing my eyes and going into the bathroom, and began to wash my face, put new cat food and water on summer, and searched the food left in the refrigerator. If I am lucky, I will mix it with cereal to start the day. With the music of young singers, I began to forget their names, and I began to respond to the call of the world.

Don't have to go to work for more than ten days. I don't have to catch the early bus in the morning, but I'm worried that I haven't finished my work at night. But the alarm clock and Miss Dongdong dutifully pulled me out of bed. I dawdled all morning, and at the moment when the sun hit the window, a helpless new day began again.

The building outside the window is one story high, and the sun is still beautiful on it. The sunlight reflected by the newly installed glass refuted the spots reflected by the leaves, and the leaves that began to yellow were re-plated with a layer of golden yellow. "I really don't want to do anything on such a day." If you can stand in my position and look out my window, you will complain like me.

Today's plan has been rehearsed many times last night. It's really frustrating to think about it. This is not freelancing. This is a terrible holiday. Stuffed with content. In view of the recent poor progress, Ms. Dongdong lost her temper. I think we should consider re-using post-it notes, such as "Go to a place to take photos of the sorted materials at 0/0 in the morning", "Clean up the cat litter in summer in five minutes" and "Finish a gentleman's next job before 2 pm". It's a gloomy morning with sunshine (if it's sunny), cereal, cats and shoulder pain, but you can't make a living without it. If one day, summer can support me in turn, it will be easy.

At noon, things piled up a lot. Things haven't been going well recently, and the agreed projects have been dragged around and not realized. The photos taken have been piled up on the E-disk labeled "Mao Mao" for several days. At this time, I began to envy the photographer who dealt with film a few years ago. At least, I don't have to finish taking photos and go to post-production immediately. A few years ago, for work reasons, I used PS to process photos. Recently, I began to try to use LR, which is still quite powerful. The name also comes from the interesting name "lightroom". It is no longer a darkroom, but a room with light. Well, I really seldom advertise that I can do commercial shooting. Fortunately, some friends will be willing to give me some jobs. I also have time to shoot some small things I like in my spare time. But I only like filming and don't like post-processing, which is a headache. My previous experience as a designer was really terrible.

The focus of my work in recent days is to sort out the odds and ends of the past year and make a small photo album of my own. Next, I plan to make a gourmet photo album. As for where to do it, I'm still in the process of preparation. It would be nice if it could be shaped as soon as possible. Choosing photos is a very strict matter. If there is no unified theme, photos always look neither fish nor fowl, and the quality should not be too bad. However, the greatest pleasure of sorting out photos is that after many days, the mood of shooting at that time can still come to me through time. I think the happiest thing is that even if I was in a bad mood when shooting, I will not be bothered by the bad mood at that time when I look back.

Life began to enter a track that I had never considered before. This is a very happy thing. Recently, I also took time to read a few poems, and the books I bought began to digest a little. Well, I didn't eat it, haha. But I do have time to read books, and it is too much burden to have no job.

Attached is a favorite poem recently, from Haizi. It is said that there is another song in Zhou Yunpeng that also sings this poem. Those who are interested can listen to it. September.

Wild flowers on the grassland witnessed the death of the gods.

The distant wind is farther than the distant wind.

My piano whimpers and tears are gone.

I returned this distant place to the grassland.

One is called wood and the other is called ponytail.

My piano whimpers and tears are gone.

In the distance, there is only one wild flower condensed in death.

The bright moon is like a mirror, and the grassland hangs high, reflecting the Millennium.

My piano whimpers and tears are gone.

Riding across the grassland alone

Title picture: lovers