December 12, 2010 § Leave a comment
I started taking pictures because I wanted to remember beautiful things, and as time passed, I began buying tools to help me capture those beautiful things more beautifully — spending thousands upon thousands on increased pixel counts, larger sensors, and wider apertures.
These days, with all my textbooks and the constant studying, I don’t get many chances to take my 7D along with me, to record the beautiful things I see every day. Forlornly, the camera collects dust with its older sisters on a shelf in my apartment — hardly used.
Meanwhile, down the street, I notice the way sunlight passes through a corner apartment, flickers and reflects off the window’s glass, and falls on an orange sign made of wood and words, “Men working” on Amsterdam Avenue. I think it’s touching how simple a moment can look and feel — and in that moment, I yearn for the 7D, but I carry nothing to record this tiny snippet of life. Only my mind and my words and a mental note to take a picture of it one day. If one day ever comes.
Sometimes, my mind will just have to do, but I find it sad that, in a few years, I won’t be able to look back and remember a specific second of unexpected appreciation. To remember how I was suddenly touched by something so forgettable, and how the world is so rich in moments like that. You feel something, and you move on. You are affected and then unaffected. I guess that’s why I write, why I take pictures.
I want to remember the beauty of experience.
I want to remember the amazing minutia, the bits and pieces, the forgettable moments, and then I want to make them last forever.