Memory. There are so many times when I'm sitting, just soaking in some beautiful moment of perception and clarity, or maybe surrounded by love or physical beauty and wonder how long I can capture that feeling for. What if I won't be able to remember years from now, or it's faded so much only something small will trigger it; such as a scent or visual? I suppose that's what my love of photography and writing are for... memory. I used to journal consistently until writing made my wrist ache (maybe carpal tunnel) from repetitive use, and typing isn't quite as satisfying. When I physically write, it's as if the words came right from my soul, through me and the pen, falling onto the paper in some sort of sacred rhythm. Writing on the computer doesn't feel as connected, although it's something I must get used to, as my wrist simply will not allow the pen to paper route anymore with the type of writing I crave.
I absolutely love photography as well; and being the view girl I am, I get much fulfillment from taking photos of scenery and landscapes. I'm almost more interested in that than photographs of people at times. Where do the years go though? Are they pressed between photographs and memory and nostalgia? I just want to remember everything. Life is just too beautiful... along with all of the ups and downs not to. I try to capture and create valuable adventures, intimate moments, happiness and even sadness for tangible evidence later on, simply to remember them by.
"I like to find poetry in life:
written or photographed
the dimple when you smile
a chest of drawers from 1905
it's the details that keep me alive."
-unknown
Dave Matthews with Tim Reynolds. HEART. :)
"One sweet world
Around a star is spinning
One sweet world
And in her breath I'm swimming
And here we will rest in peace."
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