What do you make?
I make sense of what I’m feeling by making pictures. Or perhaps, it is more accurate to say that the pictures I make reveal what I am feeling. Even the shallow or superficial pictures, the ones I think are awful, are telling. Every time I press the shutter, I make a difference, make something that counts, make something that is both beautiful and lasting.
I used to think that the point of life was to get over the hurdles or overcome the problems, as though life were some sort of contest. And now I realize that the point is to make room – for things to fall apart and come together, over and over again. I make room in my heart for grief, for misery, for joy. I make room for healing.