Pilachi_Sketch [ BLOG ]

There is so much to write and so little time. It has been a whirlwind of activity, with really great prospects for future development.

Pilachi is really taking off, and I am happy to say, we are hitting our stride.

Will write more soon.

I could do this and be quite happy. Write. Take photographs. Paint. Draw. Dance. Laugh… and eat groundnut soup.

Now that I am getting the hang of being a clic-tourist, I thought I might share some of the recent photographs with the D200. The billowing shot of Shake Bongo was an experiment; so when the variables presented themselves again, the opportunity was seized… and I clicked away.

It is so funny, the choice of subject in the photo, because I do not smoke [anything]… never have.

Have you ever met a girl and after a few conversations, when you really start to get to know her, you ask yourself what you ever did in your life without her? Well, that is my experience with the Nikon D-200 camera. I told my wife; and for the most part, I feel the same way about her too.

I love writing like this.

Seriously though… that camera makes my panties get really wet. [ Did I say that out loud? ] I love writing like this.

Seriously though… It does. and I do. [but not on the first date].

Having navigated the initial growing pains of relearning how to take photographs… and after getting over the hump of understanding that in camera terminology… [P] or Panty-mode is a fancy way to say semi-automatic… I went old skool–like a “mo-fo”–and shot in [M]ango-mode.

After shaking the wrong branch for a while, fiddling with knobby-thingys, under-exposing, over exposing, bracketing and otherwise asking that ever present professional question… “gee, I wonder what that thing does.” Until, it begins to unravel before you… like shredded lace in the shadows of a hot leather couch… and you compose yourself, remove panties with reckless abandon, ready the tip of your index-t finger and begin the euphoric exploration of the eponymous clic-tourist.

[remember boys and girls, it is not love if they pay you for it]