Listening to La Lune by Billie Marten. Loving this line —Time after time I’ve been people I’m not.
Watching Portraits and Dreams. Wishing someone had given me a camera when I was a kid.
It looks like I am seeing red. But it’s not just the color that brings these images together, nearly rhyming, but not quite. There are signs to welcome, signs to warn (no soliciting), signs to direct (enter). There are invitations to walk through the door, sit on the deck, and climb the stairs. The scenes are cold and yet still warm, pockets of light both inside and out. None of this occurs to me as I am taking these pictures . . .
I wonder if this is the real magic of photography. There is something about the practice that is soothing to the most rudimentary and essential parts of our brains. Maybe photography helps us to get out of our own way, releasing us from the cage of self-sabotage.
. . . The present has arrived
and you are in it. Your heart
is pumping. Your breath moves
in and out of your lungs without
anyone’s help or permission.
Let go of everything else. Let
your life, handed to you through
no effort of your own, be all
the proof you need. You are loved.
—What Matters, Terri Kirby Erickson
