it really doesn’t wash with me. try as i might, i find it hard to ever recall saying “i’m bored.” oh, i may have been bored with a television show or some other monotonous chore, but those are instances that are easily overcome. i can’t do it. i cannot write about monotony. this is the umpteenth time i’ve started this post & each time it gets more & more inane & redundant. what is there to say about monotony? i’ll tell you: nothing. these two photos struck me because of their monochromatic essence, but even they are not monotonous (which is what i thought would be the connection, the raison d’etre, if you will, of this post,) but alas, it’s not to be.
because i love their subtlety, their illusion of fiction, their drifts of watery memory, & the melding of sea & sky. & although they’re still, can you not feel the swells of the ocean, the rocking, stomach-dropping dip & lift?