Being stuck at home makes you see your house in a different way.
Today, while I was watching the last hour of a Japanese movie, I remembered all the times I wasted my camera film taking photos in my patio or inside my room, and I decided to rescue some of them.
No matter how sunny it is, only a small amount of light ever enters my house. It's something I've always been aware of, but it's recently started to bother me. I suppose that before, I had never considered the possibility of being locked up here for days. Bette and I call it "The Courtyard Of Suicides." I don't remember how the name came to be, only that we have imagined many stories ending in someone's fall out of the window. Actually, not much happens on this patio other than the spectacle of the neighbor hanging out his towels, unsure of how to properly use the clothesline.
I love the mirror in my room. I usually take a lot of pictures in front of it. Mia Wallace sure loves to spend all day reflected on it.
My room is quite small, and it's full of things that I move all the time from one place to another while I’m watching my favorite classic movies. Now the curtain has a knot and I no longer have that tape recorder on the table or anywhere else. What I do have are many earrings hanging from the table lamp. One thing that I've done is read Sebastião Salgado’s book that's on the cushion. And I have listened to that cassette many times. And I have worn that sweater even more.
The living room no longer has this arrangement. It was temporarily changed so I could take some photos but then we ended up liking it more this way, although the bookshelf covers a Monet painting and it is messier overall.
And finally, a little color from an expired film. Like the color that Bette brings to this quarantine with his craziness.