Truth

That of lungs and hearts
Words spoken
Others left unsaid

For hearts to feel
Bodies to share
Be held, be held
Closer than you knew you could

Stay beside me
Heart inviting
Past behind me
Your words biting

Cold and harsh
Like bitter wind
Whoever thought you'd go?

Overwhelmed

It's when I need you
I'll be most alone
You'll be useless
Like a broken bone

Your arms don't fit
To hold me
And things I thought you told me
They weren't there

You'll be gone
I'll say it's time
But don't worry now
I'll make sure I'm fine

Someday you might be here
For now I'll just be one
Overwhelmed
By what's to come

Something Else.

Sometimes, when she dances, it's like....

It's like...grace floating past you on a breeze.

Like you might just catch it if you were quick enough.

Her voice. She sings.

I take the sound she makes.

Take it in.

Wrap myself up in it.

It's peaceful.

It's her.

I know it.

Does she know?

For when she looks again will she know who she is?

Who I am?

No. She won't.

For we are merely two strangers.

Two souls. Not connected.

Just two people.

Trying to find something.

Even though we have everything.

Why keep searching?

Didn't have a camera by my side this time.....

Lately, I have found myself thinking a lot about photos and the reasons people take them. Some say to capture a moment, a memory, something important. Others, just for fun. Some photos because they are arty or a 'great shot'.

Being that I work in an industry that deals with photos, I see them every day. Babies, weddings, dogs, cats, cars, landscapes, art works - we see it all.

Over the weekend I climbed a peak at Halls Gap, and I spent time near the water in Portland, where I had the opportunity to see some beautiful views and it was all very enjoyable. Now, I like to take photos, but it's not something I pride myself on.

Whilst taking photos of valleys and beaches, I suddenly began to wonder why I was taking the photo in the first place. Was it to remind myself what it looked like? Was it to show somebody else?

I knew that in taking the photo, I was not capturing the moment. Not the smells, the sounds, just what could be seen by a lens. Which is never quite the same as what is seen by the eyes.

I saw albino kangaroos on Sunday. I didn't even know such a thing existed until there they were right in front of my face. I took photos. It wasn't the same as my wonder and excitement at actually seeing them, there in front of my face.

So now, I have spent some time thinking about photos and why I take them. Maybe one day when I am old and senile I will be glad I took them, to trigger my memory so I can tell the story about what was actually happening at the time. In many years time I might need to explain to someone why I made my friend lie down on a big rock at the top of a mountain so that I could take a photo of him 'planking'.

I like to take photos. I will continue to do so. However, I am not collecting photos, I'm collecting memories.

Why do you take photos?