Copper and Cobalt
Recently, I had AI create this illustration for a PowerPoint presentation celebrating the end of a project. I have since uploaded it to my stock art portfolio. Perhaps I'll make an undeserved nickel from this, someday.
I realized something over July 4th weekend: I don't give a shit about fireworks anymore. They bore me.
Is this a sign of depression? Am I okay?
No matter what kind of fireworks you're talking about, I've seen it. I'm 60. I've been to at least 55 fireworks shows; undoubtably more. Is there any movie you want to see 55 versions of? Any book you want to read? Any album you want to hear?
Fireworks go BOOM. Sometimes they're green. Sometimes blue. When I see them, I think, "Oh. Copper. Cobalt. Yay."
Does God feel the same way at every supernova? "Oh. Copper and cobalt are forming. Yay."
My mother asked me if I photographed any of them. There is no photographic subject less interesting than a firework. It's an explosion with no motion or sound, like sneezing during an orgasm, both pleasures interrupted, no sound, no fury.
This is why we have children, and want them to make grandchildren: So we can enjoy copper and cobalt again, because little people who haven't seen them on fire 55 times already enjoy the hell out of it, and through them, we enjoy life again.