Six Flashes in the Rain by Joe McNally

Standard Post with Video.

To quote a time honored phrase from old school Nat Geo coverages, “It was raining when we arrived.” And it continued, and it got heavier, and the day got more bleak, and I got wetter and wetter, and the cold got inside of me, sapping my spirit, numbing my bones and making my eyes cross. The carousel on the edge of the Potomac was small and cramped, and, well, what can I say? It wasn’t that country fair spinner with lush, hand painted horses and the echoes of the laughter of children and the fond reverie summertime high school dates faintly wafting through the air. No field of dreams here. Just a plastic reproduction on the edge of a busy, cluttered riverside. But it was handy, and reasonable, and doable. Which makes many a location a wonderful thing despite limitations.

The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.

Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath