We went to a glass museum in northern Denmark (I do wish I could remember the names of the towns). One of the sculptures was a box made of many mirrors. It had a door to enter through. At first I felt ungrounded in the box. There were mirrors all around, even on the floor. Images were reflected to infinity. I was everywhere I looked. And in this photo, Aaron is at the door taking a picture of me taking a photo of him.
Yesterday evening the lake was still and the sun was pushing through the clouds, laying a wash of color on the water. The trees on the islands were reflected deep into the lake. I went to grab my camera, but then remembered it was broken. While in Europe, my camera bit the dust. I think I overworked it.
I feel naked without a camera. But then, I can’t help wondering if I am hiding behind the camera, if I really see things only through the camera. I take so many photographs; are they like “friends” on Facebook, just a portion of reality or do they actually take reality a step further. Are they a product of being even more present, revealing a hidden truth beyond experience.
I love having the memories. the moment captured, held. Visual thoughts. Are they an unrealizable dream, cropping out what is not desired, looking for perfection? But then, what’s wrong with dreaming!
Comments