to have done this to my hand. Most likely I punched a wall in anger/frustration.
Luckily though, nothing seems to have been broken. Supposedly it happened in 2022, but as is so often the case with these things, I have no memory at all of this injury or what led up to it.
Related post: Speaking Of Knives
Today is August 14, 2024. Just now I was again rummaging through old folders, mining for previously overlooked photos, when I came upon this image of a glove sticking out of a pond. It was quite striking, and fairly surreal-looking as well. It evoked de Chirico and others of his ilk from the early decades of the last century. Maybe someone had marked a spot with it, to do some maintenance work later? I played with it a while, trying this and that with editing software, then got the bright idea to turn it upside down. It turned out to be a winning move, as the glove was crumpled in an unnatural way and turning it upside down made it somewhat less conspicuous; and it also made its striking reflection stand out even more. So then, after some more work I felt it was finally ready for posting, and I opened this blog and clicked on "hand" in the sidebar to link to related prior posts. The first post that popped up was the one with the shadow of my hand, which was kind of like the yin to this yang, I thought. The hand shadow was reaching out from darkness, whereas this reflection seemed to be reaching into the water. So they complement each other -- O.K., good. Then I looked at its date -- August 14, 2023, same date, exactly a year ago!
And it's happened before: The Very Next Dream Log Entry
Related posts: Suddenly Sad (the hand shadow), Glove
I took this shot as a lark. I happened to pass by the guard shack at my building (not as ominous as it sounds -- the "guards" are mostly retired old men who are more like groundskeepers than security personnel), saw the shadow of its roof and thought my hand sticking out of it would be kind of funny.
But when I opened the image for editing it struck an unexpected chord ; the hand looked like a desperate appeal for help, or perhaps a melancholy reaching-out for a response, any response...
I guess it's just a matter of your state of mind at the time you see the image, but I'm reminded of Goya's lonely dog.
