In the morning, I got up in the house where I lived for more than a year, got up sleepily, and my neck and shoulders were still exhausted from exercise, so I threw the summer that I had a nightmare all night off the quilt and got out of bed. I 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 the summer, and searched the food left in the refrigerator. If I was lucky, I mixed it with cereal. Accompanied by the music of young singers whose names I began to forget, I began to respond to the call of the world.
I don't have to go to work for more than ten days. I didn't have to catch the early bus in the morning, and I was worried about the unfinished work at night. But the alarm clock and Miss Dong Dong did their duty to get me out of bed. After dawdling this morning, a helpless new day began at the moment when the sun hit the window.
The building outside the window is another story high, and it is still beautiful when the sun shines on it. The sunlight reflected by the newly installed glass refutes the leaves, and the leaves that start to yellow are plated with a layer of golden yellow again. "On such a day, I really don't want to do anything." If you can stand in my position and look out my window, you will certainly complain like me.
Today's plan has been rehearsed many times last night. It's really frustrating to think about it. This is not a freelance job. It's a terrible vacation. Stuffed with content. In view of the recent poor progress of things, Ms. Dong Dong lost her temper. I feel that I should consider re-using post-it notes, such as "going to a place at 1: a.m. to take pictures of the arranged materials", "cleaning up the cat litter for summer in five minutes" and "finishing a gentleman's next job before 2: p.m." This is a gloomy morning with sunshine (if it is sunny), cereal, cats and shoulder pain, but there is no way to make a living without it. If one day, summer can support me in turn, it will be easy.
By noon, things were still piled up. Recently, things didn't go smoothly, and the agreed projects were dragged around and unfulfilled. The photos taken have been piled up in the E-disc marked "Mao Mao" for several days. At this time, I began to envy the photographers who worked with film several years ago, and at least the photos taken didn't have to be rushed to the post-production immediately. A few years ago, I used to use PS to process photos for work reasons. Recently, I began to try to use LR, which is still 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 work. I also have time to shoot some small things I like in my spare time. But it's a headache to only like filming and not like post-processing. The experience of being a designer before is really terrible.
In recent days, the focus of my work has been 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 food photo album. As for where to do it, I am still in the process of preparation. It would be nice if it can be shaped as soon as possible. Choosing photos is a very strict thing. 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, and I feel 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 again when I look back.
It's a happy thing that life has begun to enter a track that I have never considered before. Recently, I also took time to read a few poems, and the books I bought began to be digested a little. Well, I didn't eat them, haha. But I do have time to read books, and the absence of work is too much burden.
Attached is a favorite poem recently, from Haizi. In other words, there is a song in Zhou Yunpeng that sings this poem, so you can listen to it if you are interested. September.
There are wild flowers on the grassland that witnessed the death of the gods
The wind in the distance is farther than that in the distance
My piano whimpers and tears are gone
I return this distant place to the grassland
One is called wood, and the other is called ponytail
My piano whimpers and tears are gone
Only in the distance are wild flowers condensed in death
The moon is like a mirror, and the grassland reflects thousands of years <