I went home to visit my parents for the weekend and left my camera behind. My mom called 40 seconds later as I was entering the freeway and, not wanting to turn around, I said I would pick it up in a couple weeks. What a horrible mistake, going without my camera for the past week feels like I have been missing a limb. My camera has become an extension of my body.
I immediately realized my mistake when the flight makes its way down through the Puget Sound. As we went up, up, and up through the layers of clouds, I could see the mountains and the sea and the towns all blended up down below. Not knowing what to feel, or feeling so many emotions at once--awe-inspired, curious, amused, amazed, blank--I wanted to grab for my camera and capture the moment, if not in words, then in pictures. But no, I didn't have a camera to take those pictures. I kicked myself in the head instead. (Yeah, I'm *that* flexible.)
During that flight, I saw a lot of cool things, but the most beautiful thing was these tiny frozen dropplets outside my window seat. As the sun shone on them, they glistened, reflecting gold, yellow, green, and red lights. It was the most glorious moment of their short life, before evaporating and vanishing. I really wanted to take a picture of them. I doubt they would show up, but it would have been worth a try.
I don't know why I am so obssessed with taking pictures of everything. Maybe I am like that guy in Memento, and am preparing for my imminent amnesia. If I don't record it, how will I remember it? How will I remember every single funny, sad, touching, weird, crazy, or moving, piece of memory?
Shannon came to visit, and as we walked back from Seal Beach, the sinking sun dyed her blond hair with streaks of red, pink, and purple. Then when we were going through Naples, the moon came up, skipping from one palm tree to the next. We put our hands up and framed it, it was sooo cheesy, but it was really a Kodak moment.
The other day James woke up with the biggest Asian fro ever. The hair was pointing in every direction and it was standing straight up (or out). He looked like a character from those Japanese anime. I pointed and laughed, but what I really wanted to do was point and click.
I think manically taking pictures is an obsessive-compulsive disorder I picked up, posting these pictures is a little bit of me saying, "Wish you were here."