look at this magic
A big ol' photo dump from late spring, early summer.
There are many scary things happening in the world right now, and while art cannot make any of it go away, it can remind us we are alive and human together. Taking photos on film provides me a special kind of introspection I can't really access any other way, not even through writing. It begins subconsciously, when I feel the urge to make sure I've grabbed my camera before I head out the door (which is not always the case). Sometimes I take pictures to capture memories, other times to capture specific feelings. It is most often an excavation of my own feelings. I am drawn to small corners, moments of life that remind me beautiful things exist in the world even when I am struggling to see them. I am drawn to moments filled with friends and laughter that I know I will one day want to look back on and say, "Wow, do you see this? Look at this magic. I am so grateful to have been a part of it". I don't know what the shots look like as I am taking them, but I know how I feel when I imagine it in my head. That is what I rely on. Then weeks go by for the developing process, almost always extended by my laziness and/or lack of money. There are always a few duds when the roll returns and almost each one will require a bit of editing. But I am always struck by the way the feeling I had at the time of capture returns to me upon looking at the tangible result. Each photo is like a note to my future self: "You were right to still believe that good things could exist, because you can now see them for yourself. You were right to see the magic in the world, because it is certainly there, and the world is better for you having captured it, even in the smallest way".
It wasn't until I began editing this photo that I noticed the erased "BLM". I wish whoever was yielding the pen had rewritten it.