My purse was stolen two years ago.
I’m not a purse person (‘sup alliteration). I liked the one I had. It was big enough for all my things. It was just mature enough to carry as an adult, because left to my own devices I’d still be schlepping my life around in a messenger bag from college. It had flowers and a pattern and color and I loved it.
And then it got stolen and I haven’t bought a purse since. I had a tote bag turned diaper bag for a while, and didn’t immediately feel its loss, and after that I was just… over it. It was never a priority.
I say all this by way of introducing a post whose thesis is:
I’m going to start carrying around my fancy camera, and the world is just going to have to deal with it.
Because it is super awkward to carry around a fancy camera, especially without a purse in which to store it. Without a bag of some kind, I realize I look like a person who thought it made sense to lug a giant camera to the library along with two totes stuffed with books and two children who tend to drift around like sailboats without whatever part of the sailboat steers the sailboat.
It doesn’t make sense. It’s a lot to carry. Except I take more pictures, and I want to take more pictures. My phone does it too and that’s great and good and grood but my phone isn’t doing it for me lately. And the more I get back in the habit of carrying it around, the less weird it feels.
And maybe someday, like the various Sony Cybershots of college and now my current phone, it will fuse to my hands in your mental image of me, fade into the background and no longer be noticeable.
If not I’m just going to start proclaiming that I’m taking photos because I have a blog I intended to update.