My Work Is Shit

I hate it all.

Well my "recent" shit, because that's what it is- shit. Though in all fairness I haven't been shooting much, and the winter depresses me. But I was so determined to shoot in the snow, the beautiful upstate New York winter. But I can't do it, apparently. I'm stuck in my apartment, stuck in misery. Like every winter. Spring is my savior. February is the bane of my existence.

So I'm gathering all my polaroids and putting them in order. They go something of the order of Prosper, Nate/Nell, single/Prosper, single, Jaime/Sarah, single/Holly, James and company, single/holly/etc. Or something like that. It's hard putting them in order, particularly the two years flopping back and forth with Prosper, I mean, he wore the same fucking outfits all the time. Melody's hair length and style helps, though.

anyway, along with those polaroids, and my "photography" and other snapshots I'm putting together the ultimate Utica scrapbook. My life in the last four years. I'm doing it for me. Since I was about ten I have taken pictures and gotten photo albums with the intentions of keeping them going, up to date. And never did that, so I suppose now is a good time to do that.

So much has happened.