This is me.
It’s from last Winter, one of those mornings when the night had our car coated in a thick layer of ice, impossible to work through with the ice scraper that always seems to be the one from past year. Nothing else to do than leave the engine running and wait while the defroster slowly comes to life. Then, after having seen myself in the rear-view mirror for a few good minutes, threads of melt-water starts to work their way down the window. When vision finally is clear enough, I can’t help feeling I don’t appreciate what I see. The defroster only worked on the window, the outside remained as is. So I stay seated a few more minutes, looking at myself in the rear-view mirror, having no clue why everything all of a sudden feels so uninspiring. The longer I look, the more anxious I get over myself. Eventually I carry on to do what I’m supposed to.
There were many such mornings, last Winter; the Februaries, as my friend Ray so well calls them. They are long gone now, and I had actually forgotten about them. It was just this image that made me thinking. I found it embodying the feeling I have when I’m like that, and I just wanted to write it down and save it for the records.
Your photo and words capture quite successfully those periods when we just feel lost in our own personal fog.
Great image, the color and the frosted (iced) windows
The look in your eyes says it all. Excellent image, especially for being in the middle of the Februaries.
Very creative, Ove. Certainly an image anyone who’s experienced a cold winter with an automobile identifies with. Great work!
Thanks, Earl! The view inside a car can be spectacular when there’s ice on the window.
[...] remember reading Ove’s post, The Februaries. This post invoked a strong response in me because the photograph was a stark reminder of where I [...]
Quite a thought provoking post Ove. Those Februaries seem mighty long sometimes.
Too long, Mark, too long. But now it’s June, and life’s a joy again.
I found my way here through Paul Lester’s photoblog.
Your writing made me think. We all face the Feburaries at times, and I’m glad you took time to write about it.
Creativity is such a Godsend. I’m happy for the days when I can shake loose outside stresses and see the world as it really is–so full of beauty and promise.
Thank you very much for your comment, Bonnie. And welcome, too! I can’t agree more with what you write. For some of us creativity and mood comes together, the one feeds the other.
Great image and the desperate look in your eyes makes me smile
But, yeah, sometimes it is just like that. For instance when you know you’re supposed to have a SoFoBoMo book ready in 12 days and … damn it
It sure is, and you learn to live with it. I don’t think I can see how desperate I look…
But I don’t know about sofobomo, I had the intention to participate but couldn’t really find more time than two weeks, this and next, so I guess I’m out.