Sticks and stones may break my bones, but karate kid will bruise me

Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting
Those kicks were fast as lightning
Carl Douglas – Kung Fu Fighting

Yes, Carl, they were. In fact, it was a little bit frightening!

I’m both a tad embarrassed and a touch proud to fess up that my 11-year-old son recently sent me to hospital with a suspected broken hand. Now I don’t condone violence, but seeing all his years of Shinkyokushin Karate training, tournaments and gradings pay off filled me with a certain degree of painful pride. Luckily for me (and him) I only suffered bone bruising, but I’m still confined to a plaster splint.

With my arm in plaster, I feel somewhat like L.B. Jeffries in Hitchcock’s “Rear Window”. Confined to my New York apartment country home, spending my time looking out of the rear window through my Instagram feed, observing my neighbours fellow toy photographers. I suspect that the man across the courtyard all the other toy photographers may have murdered his wife be having a lot of fun without me.

Rear Window

Rear Beer Window

Heck, they might even forget about me if I’m #stuckinplaster for too long and I’m unable to contribute and participate!

Hence, the pressure to perform.

The burden of continual posting, be it photos or words, is a heavy cross to bear.

I fumble, mainly one-handed, to arrange Lego minifigures to shoot. I cuss at the Lego a lot more than usual. I curse at myself for being a fat handed twat. I cockup camera settings once the one inch figures are finally positioned. I bungle edits of the expletive laden photos I eventually manage to capture. I spend more time than I should.

Oh, one inch man, lonely soul
Yeah, two inch man, gimme more
Kyuss – One Inch Man

So why would I put myself though all this pointless pressure and pain? Why do I persevere with taking a photo that is taking me far too long to setup, capture, edit and post? Why do I stick with it?

I guess, as Shelly points out, it’s all because I’m #stuckinplastic!

And yes, I grasp (with my good hand) the irony of me writing this as my colossal bandaged hand smooshes keys into the keyboard.