August 28, 2009
Someone very important to me showed me this photo and said that he agrees with what it says. I've been trying to decipher what I think of it. I agree with it as well, to a certain degree. I think. I should keep thinking on it. What are your thoughts? Share!
August 27, 2009
My little darlings, it's been too long. And for that, I offer you my sincere apologies. In my absence, I wonder if you've thought about what mystic wisdom I should return with. I've wondered the same. I've been thinking of various things and observing different people. For now I'll just share one, save the rest for future posts my fellow bloggers. And now, a little story. Here we go: Today I went for a walk with a friend of mine in the River Valley. We saw the usual things: runners, cyclists, young couples, old couples, new friends, and old friends, etc. After an hour or so, our walk was almost complete. As we were making our way up the hill, I saw a man, sitting on the wooden railing that surrounds the landing of one of the staircases on the hill. His shoes were off, jacket casually slung over the opposing wooden railing, wearing a faded charcoal t-shirt and cotton running shorts with light blue socks. At a glance, you'd think he was a runner taking a break. But upon a longer than average glance (something that some people might consider as starring. I don't know, I felt I was looking while passing. In a non-weirdo way.) you'd see that there's more to him. I began to wonder. Late 50s I'd guess for age, fancy reading glasses resting on the tip of his nose, and an old leather bound book in his hands. A professor or scholar is what I imagined him to be. With my ever degenerating vision, I tried to catch a glimpse of the title of his book without looking like some weird stranger starring at him. To the misfortune of my curiosity, I couldn't see what it was, but I did see that the lettering was in gold. Faded and cracked. Worn out from many years of existence and it's pages turned over and over and over again. What a wonderful journey that book must have been on. Now the book of brown leather and worn gold letters bask in the August sun, sharing it's tales once again with a man just enjoying a peaceful evening. How comforting it must be. If you were me, what would you do? Just walk on by after the autonomic reaction to look at a stranger and think nothing of it? Would you approach the man? Ask him about his book and have a delightful little conversation in passing? I probably would have if: a) I wasn't with my friend, and b) I wasn't a nervous, indecisive, procrastinating chicken-shit. I imagined the conversation would have been fun. Intriguing, a delectable addition to the warm almost autumn (yay!) evening. He would tell me of how he came across the book in his grandfather's study when he was just a wee lad. Pop-pop. He'd tell me that's what he called his grandfather. A small grin and quiet chuckle would follow as he had a moment with his memory. To change the direction of the subject, so as to not seem rude, he would ask me about my grandfather. I would say that my Gpa has worked hard for a number of years to build a family tree by delving into many photo albums and old newspaper clippings, journals from relatives past, and traveling to Scotland to visit those still living to swap stories and photos. Stories and photos of their youth and their present families. Gpa is also really good with digital cameras but can't seem to get a grasp on Facebook yet. It's new, but he will know more about than myself in a short while. A quick study he is. Bookman and I would draw the brief but deep topic of discussion to a close, wish each other a good night and enjoyable reads of books to come. No names were ever exchanged. Two random souls met over the question of an old book; our paths crossed for a moment and then it was gone. Simple, but I would hope that it warmed the cockles of his heart like it did mine. A dream within a dream. The reality is bookman was relaxing and taking it all in. Being casual and laxidazy in the space he had temporarily claimed as his own. Space to share with his antique friend. I would like to have more evenings like the bookman had. And the adventurous life the book must have had. Even though nothing verbal was shared, I'll do my best. You too. Breathe.
August 12, 2009
This is one of the best photos I've ever taken (as is the one in the previous post). I must admit, I was nervous when I took it: I couldn't see the screen on my camera very well because of the angle the sun was, I didn't want her to move and ruin the shot but I didn't want her to notice I was taking the photo. In regards to composition, there wasn't any real composition, it was a fluke shot that kind of follows the rule of thirds in photography. This is my friend Allison. Beautiful, non? Here's my shameless promotion: she has a blog too! And she's also the spark of inspiration for me to start one. You should check hers out, it's real nutritious: http://allisonsfoodandotherwise.blogspot.com/
Ever stop to think about the reality of things? The whys and the hows of it all? Or just to touch a flower without thinking of where you are going and if whether or not you'll be on time? I'm sure you have. I do. Whenever I can. And isn't that horrible? 'When I can'. I should just be doing it; just put everything on hold for a moment, just a moment. To stop and look around. Drink it in. We should all do it. We shouldn't have to 'make time'. Computers, cell phones, mobile internet, all of that. All of that takes us away. It's meant to keep us connected, all the time, connected. Granted it works in tracking each other down whenever we want, wherever we are, where you are. It's supposed to keep us in touch with the world, when I feel that it takes us away from actually experiencing the world. Ironic that I say this on a computer. I'm sure we've all had that thought. On more than one occasion, I've seriously thought of unplugging. Only for a while of course. Heaven forbid I miss out on something that occurs on a technologically structured social interface rather than go out and be social, face to face. A true interface. Breathe. I try. Another argument could be that all of this wonderful technology certainly is a blessing. It does keep us connected. Together. From far away lands or from around the corner. We can communicate quickly and efficiently to plan to spend time creating moments and memories. To come together and share. Together. Breathe. In short: am I a hypocrite? Probably. More importantly, are you one? Probably. I'm going to continue capturing the moments I stumble into that need to be cherished. Drink them in. Savor the taste. Breathe. Don't forget.