Heathens of Pens & Hallmarks

Today I saw a photo that evoked nearly every emotion out of me. Something that took my breath away and lit me afire with a warmth that reminds me of campfire scents lingering on the sweaters I wore in the wilderness. The muted tones kept me near a beach, and I could feel the salt water in my lungs.

A focus on the present, the real thing in front of me, you, us the viewers. But there a blur of endless water in the past, the future. I couldn't conjure the end of that potential no matter how long I stared. Reaching out to me with its soft voice, and cold temper.

There's an entire list of things I have zero words for.

Maybe it's the blue, the way it blankets and waves like the most lovely goodbyes.

Maybe it's the reddish purple of the sky where the horizon meets the rest of our lives, dancing in gradient glory from the middle to the top of a thousand mountains we will never be able to climb. Until that moment that we let our pride go and find ourselves standing at the top without even noticing the passing of time.

It could be that everything not in this photo is sublime. The way my eyes trick me into believing that the only thing existing in this moment is what's in frame.

Perhaps it's the glow of a dusk that has yet to realize it's purpose in our daze, glimmering off the skin of a being that no longer has to worry what you, or I, will ever do to push her opinion aside.

Then there's the smoke. I've burnt my whole life away wondering where the breeze would take me. Which is why I've landed once again on the western coastline, where the wind is the strongest, and the air is a palpable condemnation of our trivial anxiety.

This one image was poetry. It was every beat it needed to be. It is the memory of the little things, the big things, this exact second of time.

Something that has always drawn me to photography, and candid at that is there is no room for justification. There's no reason to attempt and explain to an audience what it was you were trying to say or capture. It's there.

One must lean on the moment, and trust that it's true, that it's passionate, that it will float you forevermore from this second onwards.

I want to lay down on the idea of it, and get the sleep I so desperately desire