Focus the eye and push the button. Expose the emulsion and freeze the pixels. Pictures of moments, places locked in time. Still life realism in its purest state. But like any painting, the question still remains -- "Is this really all that's happening?"
You can see someone for a second and tell things about them. You can take impressions, make sketches, realize texture and shadow. But do you truly know them inside? Can you really tell what's underneath?
Think of the people you have loved. The ones who have faded away with time. High school sweethearts, relationships that couldn't stand the tide. The ones that got away, ...the things you messed up. Picture those people in your mind. The faces, the memories, the things they did that made them special. Each one savored for what it was and at the same time perhaps remembered for what went wrong. They're all a part of who were are now, the good and the bad. We miss them in private but at the same time hold parts of them alive with us forever as we seek those qualities in the people we meet in our lives today.
But when you look at those pictures, when you open up those scrapbooks of the past.. do you really get to see everything? What's reality? What's idealized? Where do the lines blur?
Of course I miss you. Anyone with an open eye can see that. But it's not really the point anymore, isn't it? The point isn't those things we wish we could have back, but where we would put them on the shelves of the lives that we live now, if there is room at all. It doesn't mean the door is closed, but it does mean that I don't think any of us can just ..walk back through, you know?
This world of mine isn't perfect, but it's different. It's new and exciting. Every day there is cracked ice to walk over, finish lines to try and cross. I don't win every race, but I certainly feel like I'm running in a lot more of them now. It's a good feeling.
Why I couldn't find this before.. Where I'll be tomorrow.. I don't know.
find
You can see someone for a second and tell things about them. You can take impressions, make sketches, realize texture and shadow. But do you truly know them inside? Can you really tell what's underneath?
Think of the people you have loved. The ones who have faded away with time. High school sweethearts, relationships that couldn't stand the tide. The ones that got away, ...the things you messed up. Picture those people in your mind. The faces, the memories, the things they did that made them special. Each one savored for what it was and at the same time perhaps remembered for what went wrong. They're all a part of who were are now, the good and the bad. We miss them in private but at the same time hold parts of them alive with us forever as we seek those qualities in the people we meet in our lives today.
focus
But when you look at those pictures, when you open up those scrapbooks of the past.. do you really get to see everything? What's reality? What's idealized? Where do the lines blur?
Can you ever really know?Every now and then you'll get a phone call. A familar voice dressed up in a whole new life. Memories replayed. Maybe there was a breakup. Maybe there's a reunion. Maybe it's just one of those days. Photo albums and old memories. Reflections against the past shimmered in the pools of reality that collect on the street when it rains and rains and rains..
Can you ever really go back?
Of course I miss you. Anyone with an open eye can see that. But it's not really the point anymore, isn't it? The point isn't those things we wish we could have back, but where we would put them on the shelves of the lives that we live now, if there is room at all. It doesn't mean the door is closed, but it does mean that I don't think any of us can just ..walk back through, you know?
capture
This world of mine isn't perfect, but it's different. It's new and exciting. Every day there is cracked ice to walk over, finish lines to try and cross. I don't win every race, but I certainly feel like I'm running in a lot more of them now. It's a good feeling.
develop
Why I couldn't find this before.. Where I'll be tomorrow.. I don't know.
But this is where I am now.This is where I live.
[Listening to: Mindless Self Indulgence, "Shut Me Up"]
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