in which I get artsy.

So, in my dream life I take really good pictures.  A street sign strikes me just so.  I see  inspiration wherever I look.  I quickly grab my camera, adjust to the perfect settings for the light and snap away.  The picture is beautiful.  Stunning even.  Stunning in a way that you didn’t know baby socks or swiffer pads could be.  That’s how good I am.

In reality, I take 13 pictures of a strawberry from various angles with various settings.  Half of them are immediately discarded due to blurriness.  3 of them are unrecognizable red blobs.  2 just look shiny.  I spend 15 minutes staring at the remaining pictures and trying to figure out what went wrong and why it looks like a rose petal and not a strawberry.  One picture is visually stunning in a way that you will never again under appreciate the beauty in a single strawberry merely passable.

Longer story shorter:  I sliced a strawberry.  It looked like a heart. I liked that.  I took a multitude of pictures.  Then I ate it.  The end.

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