Friday in the Garden of Good and Evil
Another Friday is upon us. I love Friday’s. The feel like warm, fuzzy slippers on a cold winter’s night.
I got some books from Amazon today. They came after a long wait. Mostly books on Morocco and Berber design. I really want to go there and I have started my research. Someday, I will go to Marakesh and enjoy the view from the hilltop. That and Casablanca. Morocco is so fully of symbolism and substance. It’s a great place. I just hope I get to go someday. I’m already taking pictures in my head.
Taking pictures in my head? Did I just write that? I know it’s true though, as this is how I take all my pictures. Some images last in my brain for several years before my lazy hands actually pull them out and put them down on paper. I can’t help it. Part of being an artist is being a visionary. It comes with the territory. I guess I’m used to it, although I still have not resolved how photographers can really call themselves artists. We’re not. I mean, I suppose we are. But I feel like we’re not. I feel like being a photographer is really a poor excuse for an artist. But, the term artist is really a label. And it’s just a label. Nothing more, nothing less. It’s more about attitude than terminology, I suppose.
Which brings me back to Morocco. Such a cool place. So different. Exotic. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to call something when it’s not pretty and you don’t know what else to say? Morocco is pretty though. And exotic. Maybe even pretty exotic.
That’s some label. If you believed in those types of things.
Until next time, this is Carol, the Carol in “Carol’s Little World” signing off.
