Playing around with Imagine with Meta AI:
➊ "A professional American football player riding a unicorn by moonlight, photorealistic, dramatic lighting, cinematic"
➋ "An ancient pyramid wooden lodge built by viking aliens in a wintry tundra, edge light, well lit, bokeh"
➌ "The Mona Lisa if she was a cyborg designed by Apple"
➍ "This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius; let the sun shine in."
➎ "A giant peacock swatting down airplanes while wrapped around Big Ben"
➏ "A Jack Kirby drawing of Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band"
➐ "Beware: the mailman is considering performing acts of unspeakable evil, and is not to be trusted."
Went seeking some color today... it's starting to come out if you know where to look.
📷 Nikon Z fc
⭕ NIKKOR Z DX 16-50㎜
📄 ISO 400 • 17.5㎜ • f/11 • 1⁄60 sec
abigail div preview
(Shot with a Google Pixel XL 3 and a Moment Wide 18mm V2 lens; cropped, no edits.)
April 2019
Hello, friend. I know, indeed, it’s been no short while.
In late 2019, I was diagnosed with a PVD. Basically, the goop covering the retina in my left eye peeled off and is floating around inside of my eyeball. This is apparently not an uncommon thing to happen to “the elderly, and severe myopics pushing 50.” It has resulted in my vision being like lying underwater beneath a thin layer of ice, clear but swirly with dark dots floating this way and that. I was being treated by the good folks at Massachusetts Eye and Ear through the winter months, and I was told that the prognosis was good, and it’s very uncommon that this sort of thing doesn’t rectify itself on its own.
It didn’t.
Then COVID hit, and hospitals suddenly weren’t a place one would elect to be. In March, I went into deep quarantine due to historically dodgy lungs.; I’ve left my property line perhaps twice in the last nine months. I haven’t seen my eye doctor to figure out a solution (a vitrectomy may be in my future, as pleasant as that is to contemplate), or even to get a new contact lens prescription, which means on top of the minky eye I’ve also got my thick, distorting glasses on.
These are, shall we say, not the conditions under which the art of photography blossoms.
And yet, when I hear about people like Linda Tirado, a member of the press who lost her eye photographing BLM protests and went right back on the job scant days later? At some point it becomes time to start living with one’s limitations. At least I do have options for the future, correct? This is a year of hope, isn’t it?
