@dailyshoot 2011/01/31: Make a photograph that features repetition. #ds442 It was not awakening as much as a blurring of one semi-reality to another, like a cosmic flip of the channels by a totally bored god. With only one eye reaching a focused state, Conrad assessed his situation. He was probably ambulatory, but rotating his torso up on an elbow (sending empty bottles clanking), he found the sad truth that he was on the floor. And no one was in the house. Leveraging upward motion, even before attending to the critically necessary coffee, Conrad flipped the blinds open. There was no glorious sunshine, no singing birds, just a weighty grey sky, amorphous low hanging pregnant clouds. And there was a three to four flake thick layer of snow. Snow. Even to a tired, worn out, light year distant from childhood collection of worn our human material like Conrad, there was an inkling of hope about snow. That made no sense. Hope was for the weak. Any remnant of hope was evicserated rapidly by the detailed note pinned to the back door. Scratched in red lipstick on the stained napkin, where once plans were drawn, was a bounty of information. "I'M GONE." Damn, now there would not be time for coffee, not for a shower, not for leafing through the paper, not idling thoughtfully through the New York Times crossword. Conrad slipped on the soiled jeans, flannel shirt, slipped into the boots (one heel chipped). He grabbed the package from the coffee table, and walked out the back door on the deck. Breathing with both a sense of disgust and relief, he looked down the steps of the deck. Not even looking back at the door left open, lights left on, TV blaring white noice, food left strewn across the kitchen counter, Conrad looked down the steps. He knew exactly where he had to go. He knew exactly what he had to do. And he went. ----------------------------------- THE END -----------------------------------

People in Alameda are serious about their holiday decor, and the pressure is overwhelming. These grade school-project ghosties are easier to make with [thicker, sturdier] paper towels, but Chad used all the paper towels AGAIN and didn't mention it when we got groceries, so I used napkins instead.

In case you've forgotten:
1. Ball up a piece of newspaper.

2. Drape square paper towel [or napkin] over it, then tie piece of string below ball-head.
3. Dot head with felt tip or Sharpie for eyes. Don't go overboard or you'll make a hole and have to start over on this complex, time-consuming project.

4. You can string your ghosties together by driving a needle through their heads. Tie a knot on each side of each head so they don't all slide down the string into a big ghosty clump]. Tip: make the project extra-evil and fun by pretending they're people you don't like as you put the needles through their heads!