A few weeks ago I was thinking about an appropriately awesome way to celebrate my 1300th Bradism.com entry. Around the same time Vanessa had recently purchased some old school, flat topped pink shower caps which she left in the bathroom. Two inclinations became one and I decided I wanted to take a photo of myself in the shower with a pink shower cap and post it on the internet as my 1300th entry.
This did not go well. First, the bathroom is very dark and I was trying to wrap my head around how best to light it. I also wanted to invest in a long wooden brush that I could coat with soap bubbles and pose with. I planned it to be a tasteful shot, the bottom of the frame cut just below my belly button so that children too could enjoy my artistic endeavour. On my face would be a cheeky smile surrounded by perfectly timed stubble, and bubbles would be floating through the air. I was going to overexpose the background a tad to try and make the shower tiles look a little less dirty.
Long bathing brushes are hard to find, though, and I was further put off when I discovered my head was too big for the ladies shower cap I'd planned to wear. The project never found any traction and before I knew it I wasn't even spending my lunch breaks in homewares departments any more. After a couple more weeks went by I accepted that I was never going to take this photo. Unfortunately, I had never published any journal entries in the meantime. And after almost a month suddenly I couldn't think of anything to post on my journal except a picture of me in the shower with a pink head cap and a giant, soapy brush. I didn't know what to do. Eventually I decided if I described the picture and posted that description it might unclog the backlog of creativity that was somewhere deep in my off-camera pipes.
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The woman with the fake tan stepped into my office, sat across from my desk and lit a cigarette.
At least, she would, sometime in the next 20 minutes. Smelling the future has advantages, but precision isn’t one of them.