Speaking of Clouds...

I've recently figured out something about myself and my photography. I like to take pictures of "events," for the lack of a better word. If I take photographs of people, it is generally while they are doing something other than posing, most often without their knowledge. I'm not a voyeur (or maybe I am, in a sense). I just like to record things others might miss, moments that are gone and too soon forgotten. While people are doing something other than posing, they often let their guards down, and you can catch some of the most revealing identities, I mean images, ones that may never come again. 

Houston to Dallas, 7:30a.m.
Forget the date 

The same with clouds - the never coming again part. They can change in seconds. I'm the duck that walks outside, looks up and says, "Gorgeous! Wish you were here!" or simply, "Bravo!" Also with clouds is the recording of things others might miss. Most people want sunny skies. Might look good in color, but a clear sky registers as a big blank expanse in black and white - no drama, no flavor. The fact that I prefer black and white photography and tend to think in gray-scale is probably the reason clouds are a few of my favorite things. Here's a couple that I had in my digital camera and thought I'd share. (Check this post again in a few weeks. I'm transferring some of my film photography to digital. Then you'll see what I mean.)

Same flight

So, what does that have to do with Burke and Stets text Identity Theory? Good question. You have high clouds and low and somewhere in between. Cirrus, cumulus, stratus. I don't know the difference, but did you know fog is actually a cloud? I love early morning pictures in fog. But back to my question: if identity theory looks at the agencies within a person, how they relate to one another, how they influence behavior and how they tie to society, then viola (sorry, couldn't resist) you could be talking about clouds. Clouds influence and relate to each other, and when looking at the big picture, they have their own "society" to which they are tied. It's not a big stretch, really. Each cloud has its own identity(ies); I just don't know any personally. At least, not for long. And just like people, they do some amazing things with those identities.

But I must get to this class session. Oh, yeah. I missed class. I spent the day in the doctor's office in East Houston getting additional blood work done and adjusting to copious meds. (I had an emergency room visit the Thursday night/Friday morning before. I drove from Dallas to Houston. I figured if it got really bad, I could pull into a gas station and have them call an ambulance.) I had a reaction to my blood pressure medicine, and my lips quadrupled in size. Since I never had a problem breathing, I didn't completely freak out. But still, it was a little scary.

Lupita, goddess of all things kind, collected everyone's work and took notes for me so that I wouldn't be completely lost. And when I returned, Leila (you know, that brain I told you about) helped me revise my work that had been done while under an antihistamine haze. One of the questions in Lupita's notes asked: when you pay attention to the things you say, what has you speak? Man, that's deep. No, really. Most of the time, I'm paying attention to the things I don't say. You know, when you're in some situation and for some reason, all these things are flashing to say, but you just don't say them - that's me, quite often. It's the: I don't want to be misunderstood, taken the wrong way, misquote someone else. It's a lot of things. Of course, I generally have those conversations with myself later, and they end up in some type of text. Like now. 

Am I rambling? I don't mean to; I do have a point somewhere in all of this. What has me speak (or not speak) is a combination of the multiple identities (not multiple personalities, although sometimes...) which constitute me. Sometimes, it's social, but more often than not it is one of the role identities that takes over and silences me (for the moment).

Okay, how many of you are saying I am full of shit, that I don't hold things back, that I have a tendency to say whatever the hell I want whenever I want? To you, that's because you know me intimately. Welcome to my little world of societies. For the rest of you, it's only a matter of time before I put my foot in it. Sometimes, it takes me a while, but then all bets are off, and you may catch some of my revealing... let's just say images. 

Quote (although not from this class session) for the day: Is there any reality outside my experience of it, which at every level has been strained like coffee grounds through myriad filters? Allene