With or without a camera

Cultures which have not been exposed to photography (there are still a very few) are often suspicious of pictures, particularly pictures of people.  They believe someone taking a picture can steal a part of who one is, can take a part of one*s soul, if not its entirety.  

This weekend I sat for a professional picture (thank you, Kelly), and a family picture (thank you, Peter).  I am part of a culture which has been well-exposed to photography.  I do not believe my soul is captured in any picture, no matter how good or bad the picture is.  Not really, anyway.  But there is still that ancient part of my brain that worries that whatever the picture outcome, someone will see it and hold it as my entirety.

With or without a camera,

Wherever we are,

We take pictures,

Snap the shutter,

Hold a moment in time.

Sometimes we think we remember

Whole movies

With beginning

Middle

End.

We remember

a series

Of still shots.

We think in still shots:

A sliver of light,

A bubble of time,

The sun angle through the window,

A particular expression

On the face

Of the fifteen year old girl,

The text message captured

In the inbox

Until it is erased.

With or without a camera

Wherever we are

We take pictures

Single pictures.

We hold them true,

Touch them up.

Moments in time

No beginning

Middle

End.