Recently I wrote a blog featuring one of Rosemary’s Argentine shoes.
Today, Thursday 17 November, I had a brief visit by my youngest daughter (50) Hilary Stewart. I fed her and did not take her home. She was adamant that my car was too small and she had developed the sniffles this morning. She did not want me to catch her cold. I was left a tad sad as I enjoy our drives to Burnaby.
She noticed the two shoes on my living room table and I said, “They make me melancholic when I look at them. They remind me of Abi (the name my family gave to Rosemary as an approximation of abuelita (little grandmother in Spanish).”
Her correction floored me, “They are Abi.”
How can inanimate objects be a person? I would not contest her statement as somehow she must be right.
Inanimate objects have a vivid and important part in my life. Of late it has been my Fuji X-E3 that does what it wants without my input. Could this be inanimate free-will? Below a complete accident (somehow my Fuji XE3 did not work properly on panoramic mode) that happened last week on a very cold morning at Nitobe Garden.
|Nitobe Garden - 6 November 2022|
Luckily the free-will manifestations of my Fuji have produced lovely accidents which I have been able to repeat to my delight.
When I took this Polaroid portrait of Rosemary back around
1975 in Burnaby I did not give it a second glance and put it into a box.
It was only last year that I saw it again and noticed something exquisite about
the portrait. It would seem that Polaroid came to rescue and shoved me into a
realization of the beauty of the image.
In that past century design used the dictum that “form follows function”. In some way that steers me into the direction that objects do communicate with humans and indeed King Arthur could not fail with his Excalibur in hand.
I have felt the same when using my favourite cameras. They all exercise their free-will to my benefit.