Sitting

Sitting on my own not by myself
~ Cat Stevens (Sitting)

[Listen]

I met with a couple today to discuss their August wedding they'd like me to photograph, then wandered into town. I ran into a few friends who had performed at my workplace as part of a quilt exhibition, so I chatted with them as they were loading up their gear. Then off I went to browse a bookstore then get some pizza before heading home.

When I'd left the apartment, the weather was quite lovely and warm, but my walk home was blustery and getting rather chilly. Just the other day, I had left home wearing a sweater and windbreaker only to find it was too warm for either; today was just the opposite as I wore only a polo shirt.

As I was editing the photographs I'd taken today, it occurred to me (not for the first time, really) that I spend a lot of time processing images ~ like this one ~ which are at best quotidian in nature. I give so much of my time to such photos, many of which will only be seen here or at one or two of my other online galleries. They likely will not amount to much more than a passing glance by those that see them, but for some reason, it's important that I not only take the photo, but share it.

As I think of these things my mind also drifts to my mortality and what might happen to the thousands and thousands and thousands of photographs I've taken over the years. Since I've not kept a regular journal in words, I wonder at times if people might be able to chart my existence by what I've photographed; if they might understand me and my life by looking at my pictures; if the paths that my eyes have taken will explain the paths my life has taken.