A typical Day (Take One Photo an Hour for a Day)

What is this mess? Is this my responsibility?

Yes. Yes, it is.

This has been really great. It made me aware of how fast a day goes. And how much goes on in some hours. Wow, was that only an hour?

I think I’d like to do this again in a few months!

To work! In the daylight! Weird. There are all these other people out here.

It takes me almost as long to go the 10 or so miles across Hollywood and the hills as it does to get 45 miles in the early hours.

Braveheart’s cat lapping water from the petals of one of the roses in the front yard.

She and I are at the kitchen table, having oatmeal with fresh figs and blueberries for breakfast. She knows how to eat well.

Missing the six o’clock hour totally. There’s even light outside the window!

Luxurious. I am ready to read a chapter or two of Susan Straight’s new novel A Million Nightingales before Braveheart wakes up.

Right.

I’m doing good to find the ceiling fan in the dark. My viewfinder screen is completely black.

I slept clean through midnight, ladies and gentlmen. But here’s proof of the one o’clock hour. My cell phone and notebook beside my bed.

In Braveheart’s guest room. This is a fairly typical every-other-Tuesday, but normally I’m in bed by nine and up by four or four-thirty.

I am actually wearing purple shorts and a tee shirt. Sheesh.

We watched part of a wonderful documentary about Passionworks Studios a place where developmentally challenged artists work.

This was captured from Braveheart’s big screen TV.

The artist’s first name is Harry, I think.

I passed this statue on the way to Braveheart’s house.