We went to a glass museum in northern Denmark (I do wish I could remember the names of the towns). One of the sculptures was a box made of many mirrors. It had a door to enter through. At first I felt ungrounded in the box. There were mirrors all around, even on the floor. Images were reflected to infinity. I was everywhere I looked. And in this photo, Aaron is at the door taking a picture of me taking a photo of him.
Yesterday evening the lake was still and the sun was pushing through the clouds, laying a wash of color on the water. The trees on the islands were reflected deep into the lake. I went to grab my camera, but then remembered it was broken. While in Europe, my camera bit the dust. I think I overworked it.
I feel naked without a camera. But then, I can’t help wondering if I am hiding behind the camera, if I really see things only through the camera. I take so many photographs; are they like “friends” on Facebook, just a portion of reality or do they actually take reality a step further. Are they a product of being even more present, revealing a hidden truth beyond experience.
I love having the memories. the moment captured, held. Visual thoughts. Are they an unrealizable dream, cropping out what is not desired, looking for perfection? But then, what’s wrong with dreaming!