The morning, Saturday features frost. After all May 2nd is early enough; that rotation of the earth’s axis inclining the northern hemispheres toward light and heat is not enough to dispel the condensation to freezing of water, frost. Frost will come and go for a week or so. After which time vegetables will be planted. The seasons and time are persistent reminders that everything is related to everything else. The entire cosmos linked to the grass seed that I distributed several days ago. Cause and effect, subtle or bombastic/violent is the ginormous production in which I am actor and director, a saga that is seemingly without a producer.

A few pages remain in my reading of Camera Lucida, Reflections On Photography by Roland Barthes. Barthes writes this:  

What founds the nature of Photography is the pose. The physical duration of the pose is of little consequence; even in the interval of a millionth of a second (Edgerton’s drop of milk) there has still been a pose, for the pose is not, here, the attitude of the target or even a technique of the Operator,…

Something has posed in front of the tiny hole and has remained there forever (that is my feeling); but in cinema, something has passed in front of this same tiny hole: the pose is swept away and denied by the continuous series of images: it is a different phenomenology, and therefore a different art which begins here, though derived from the first one.

Camera Lucida, Reflections On Photography by Roland Barthes, chapt. 33

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There’s always a tune, a vessel upon which to ride the current of time. Heart of Glass by Blondie.