I have a love for photography which I’d rather not participate in, like the librarian who has no interest in ever writing a book.
But every once in a while I remind myself that photos capture moments in time that are most likely worth remembering, and I take the old Canon DSLR out and accidentally end up with a couple photos that make me want to be a writer:
These two are halves of a thematic whole. One’s taken in the north West as the sun fell, the other in the south East as the sun rose, one steps forward and spotlights a man through overtones of red and brown that curve from center bottom to top left in a figurative jungle, the other falls back and highlights a girl through undertones of blue and brown that curve from top left to center bottom in an authentic jungle, both incorporate two Coke bottles, two observing boys, and hint of an unoriginal yet wonder-full immaturity; of street play, of home, ordinary life, and life devoid of wealth.