John Maxwell and I

A few days back, me and John Mac. Maxwell worked at the Taylor's house, as in Beth Taylor, to whoever knows her. I've gone there to do yard work twice so far. Both times John's been there, but we haven't really worked together much. Anyway, it started storming like cats and dogs when we were getting ready to leave (and when I say that I mean cats and dogs in a figurative sense, not literally, as if there were felines and canines falling from the clouds. Joke! Ha. ha.) We got into my little red Toyota and rolled out of the place, having much good and inspiring conversation on the way back. I mean, how couldn't you have some sort of innovative dialogue going on inside of an automobile that's under a sky like this?:

[taken on John's awesome camera, not mine]

We drove back to John's house so he could take a shower and change out of his dirty clothes. He wanted to not feel disgusting while he hung out at our house. That's one fact you must know about John. He's always at the Weber house. So, as he was taking his sweet time about getting ready, I grabbed his camera and walked about the house, snapping, snapping, snapping. I swear, if I had my own camera, I'd go nuts. I really love taking pictures. I enjoy trying to produce discrete compositions out of them. That image of the stormy clouds above proves this statement to be faulty; but heck, sometimes the purpose of a picture is to document, not present. Here's a bit of what John's "lenses" captured that afternoon ("Lenses." It's the same idea as, like, calling your car "muh wheels". Anyway...):

You can tell pretty well that it's raining here. My car/justin/katie's car is the one in back of the van.



. . . After John's shower was done I infiltrated the bathroom. I got really excited when I saw this mirror. It's all about the contrast of the blurriness and distinctness.



. . . Below is the Maxwell's family room. I've never thought "family room" was the right name for it, because we've always called our basement, which is as cluttered as their's, the "school room"--a place of construction, production. Really did like the cluttered aspect of this room though. It isn't tense at all. Just homey and warm, protected from the rain outside that window.

This one of me and John isn't about the contrast of blurriness and distinctness at all; I mean, the whole picture's blurry. Rather, it's about the stillest I could hold the camera in such dark lighting.