this isn’t a photo, but it’s about light.
i wrote it for a friend who was going through a breakup.
she’s a photographer too.
light is universal.
a light-proof box
our heroine has lost her love but not has not lost her love.
did you hear that? it happened just as i said.
our heroine has lost her light but has not lost her light. did you hear that too? it’s true, just as it happened to you.
what else can i say about her?
her name could be emily or beth or even hermione.
there’s really no way of knowing; i just tell the story.
words write themselves, the sun rises and the sun sets.
something is lost, something is found.
we could start this story at the beginning, but that’s not where our heroine resides.
smooth the pleats and fold the linen.
hold the hem tightly and turn down at the seam.
press this here, the collar.
push back the errant hair. turn, stand and hold. the pose.
don’t forget to smile. you’re such a pretty girl when you smile.
sometimes she feels that all she can see of the world are snapshots of missing pieces and that the greater whole is an image forever lost to her.
a camera is nothing more than a light-proof box equipped with some device for letting in light. in the simplest of cameras, there is only a small pinhole to admit light. a plain flap over this pinhole is opened and closed to control the amount of light that enters the interior of the camera.