When the table is set...

I realized this morning that if I do end up going back to work some of my book projects will probably fall by the wayside. So I decided to turn the project that is most important to me -- my illustrated guide to The Gospel of Thomas -- into a blog. (I've written to Lynn Bauman, whose translation of Thomas I am using; he approved the book project so I'm hoping he'll be okay with the idea of the blog.)

Because most of the work on this project has already been done, it should be a simple matter of a few minutes to mount one of the Logia each day. Of course, the nature of these blogs is that they'll be mounted in reverse order, with the first at the bottom, but I think that will be okay. So I set it up this morning; you'll be able to access it from the link on the left of this blog.

So why this image? I came across it this morning; it's from a set I did for a local store. The owner was a friend, and she wanted my photographs to put on her website. But it actually turned into a rather awkward situation: the website designer was himself a photographer, and wasn't happy with any of the images I shot, so in the end none of my work was used.

She did, however, pay me for my time, which was very sweet. And, sadly, the store eventually closed. So in a way this photo could be a symbol of failure. But mostly when I looked at it I heard the words of the 23rd psalm: Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. It seems to me to be a picture full of blessings: the peace, the colors, the light...

And I loved the sort of tippiness of the perspective (this is actually two images combined; same scene shot from two different angles): it made me feel that, even though my table isn't overwhelmingly full at the moment, there's a sense that there's a lot of stuff getting ready to land on it. So I like the thought of enjoying the rich blue peace of that interim period, for as long as it lasts.