I often imagine what it would be like to jump into my photos and continue the story. To begin within the moment captured, but then to breath in the life of an untold, continuing story. To become the character that often has such an elusive face at the moment the photo is captured. To feel their heart's beat in my veins, the life they live inside my bones, the quests they go on or, perhaps, the simplistic lives I imagine they live. I wish for the poetry of their lives when I am feeling the darkness of this world.
I suppose indeed I do, in a sense, live their lives, but only in the fleeting moment of a camera's shutter. Yet I know that they live somewhere in the corners of my being, in my dreams, even roaming in a nightmare times. And so they do live. And I can only hope to bring a manifestation in photograph, to portray the metaphor of their beings in a solitary form.
Sometimes I do not succeed, and that's okay. Sometimes they never make it to the internet, and that's okay too. Those are hidden in a secret library of abstract thought, but they live, those little misfits. But if, through a photo that does grace my page, a fellow human sees even a hinting reflection of their soul, if they view a hidden storm within them, then I have succeeded.
My strange ending question for the day: do any of you creatives out there turn your heads when viewing your work, shifting it side to side and up and down? I suppose this is a technique better applied to, perhaps, a sculptor of things, rather than a photo- taker, but that did not stop me from using the maneuvers in attempts of maximum viewing capacity.
I wish you all an inspiring week!