Strange how strong the
instinct is, to see something incredible, and reach for a camera. As if to lend
it some credibility, to prove that it's real, that 'I WAS HERE.'
We live our lives in moments.
Those rare experiences we stop to notice, and carry with us, in the hopes of
stringing them together, trying to tell a story. But even in the moment, you
can feel it start to fade.
So you try to capture it, and convert it into
something that will last longer than just a flash. And over time a photo feels
more real than it's subject. It lets you build a version of the world that you
can take with you.
A world flattened, and simple.
A world that doesn't change. That fits in the frame. A little brighter and more
colorful. With everything under control. You can travel the world looking for
memories, and still find yourself standing behind a camera waiting for the
world to hold still.
With every click of the
shutter, you're trying to press Pause on your life. If only so you can feel a
little more comfortable moving on living in a world stuck on Play.
A part of you knows you can't
take it with you but that doesn't stop you from trying.
"What if I could
stay just a little longer?" "What if we didn't have to go?"
We try to capture moments as
if we're afraid they'll escape, but they'll get away eventually.
Take one last look. One more
shot.
So years from now you can flip
back through, and try to relive it all over again.
But maybe even then, you'll be
thinking to yourself, "Ah well. I guess you had to be there."
TJ
