A photograph is a moment of our time in life, a brief slice of happening. It’s the capturing of a memory, holding far more detail than we can ever comprehend…the way the light looked, the way it felt to be there. Sometimes, if the photograph is good enough, you can smell the air, feel it along your skin.
You can look at a good photograph and feel it come alive, the image dancing into a mirage of your memories – are they real? are they fact? – blurring the lines between what is my remembering and what is yours, what is a dream and what is your own reality.
I’ve been here before…or have I? I look at this photograph and I hear my heels click on the cobblestone walkway. I am sure I was here. In heels? Perhaps not…that’s something I’ve only dreamt about.