Daily occurrences.

I take my camera with me every day now, like I did in my twenties. For some reason, my self-consciousness kept me from doing that for a while. Maybe I’m just excited about taking photos again, no matter how many duplicate images I accidentally replicate, or maybe I’m just at an age where I just don’t care anymore. I’ve been taking photos in my dreams. What does this mean?

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Hulking, looming, or just an innocuous empty old hotel.

I’ve passed by no less than six couples in the past few days, the woman always dressed in white with some sort of updo. Summer courthouse weddings are abundant right now, and I’m embarrassed to say, it wasn’t until the third to realize why they were near the courthouse. It makes me unbelievably happy to spot them now. One day I’ll be brave enough to ask to take their photo.

The courthouse lawn isn’t very conducive to wedding photos. Though maybe the cannons would provide a bit of juxtaposition.

Seconds after I took this one, I registered that the sticker on the light pole I’d just passed was a wh1te suprem@c1st sticker. I stopped in my tracks. Looked around like someone was watching me, backtracked and ripped it off. It nearly ruined my day.

Watch out.

No, really.

I like seeing ugly city infrastructure. Makes the world go round.

I love these old brick buildings. Someone has painted the exterior a cream color on one of them and it’s about as awful as you’d think it is.

“Sorry.” Full, huh? Oh, is it, though?

The old church building is beautiful. I’d imagine it is inside as well, but I wouldn’t tempt bursting into flames to find out.

Sometimes I’m not to-ing and fro-ing from work. Footwear.

Checking to see if I look presentable after getting caught in the rain.

An absolutely gorgeous display of flowers for someone else on my countertop.

Last but not least, the stairwell that holds all my private thoughts.

My husband said that this sometimes reads like a diary. After that last sentence, I suppose I can see that.