I’m a story teller. You already know that. I invent things, sometimes things that I can not have. I dream. I want more time. I fly. I crawl. I dance. I manage to become hundreds of people, while the me that’s inside is often lost and afraid. Do you love me? Do you hate me? Do you wonder who I am? Open your eyes.
The answer is very clear–so do I.
I am imperfect in a perfect world. “None of us are perfect parents.” “Let he who is without sin throw the first stone.” “No one looks like a television super- model(my apologies Naomi Campbell).” We are all what we are meant to be. We make mistakes and we learn.
Some of my most superlative photographs reveal flaws, show defects, and display the world as I want to see it–
–amazingly beautiful in its immense imperfection.
The simple thought of motion defines so many parts of life. In a smaller sense it describes activity in a microcosm of our day. I went into the kitchen and came out with my coffee…
Maybe not what someone was expecting, but apt nonetheless.
I find the concept of a quick turn around defining many parts of life, and I object. We all prefer in the hospital to be a quick out of the hospital, but in love needs to last a life time.
I insist on the permanence of certain concepts–liberty, happiness, choice, freedom, love—being among my favorites. It makes me wonder how these things can so easily fall into the category of temporary.
Yes, someone may point out that liberty, freedom and choice are the same thing, but that is not always true…
My mind is open. How about you?