Once upon a time, in some out of the way corner of that universe which is dispersed into numberless twinkling solar systems, there was a star upon which clever beasts invented knowing.
light from the sun travels a tad under ninety-three million miles before She strikes us. after that endless night, the light bounces off the grins of my friends, the faces of mountains, the surfaces of water. after the bounce, the knowing-invention of man (the camera!) steals that light. within four corners and four edges, we can get somewhat close to being immortal.
when I take a photograph of a friend or a moment, I feel like I’ve cheated God.
so when I find photographs in thrift stores or in flea markets, photographs from years ago, I’m sad. the clever beasts in these photographs, whether dead or alive, have lost a treasure. all of that light trapped with no story attached.
a resurrection, a recycling, is in order —
Here are some stories:
