Hey guys!
I thought I'd try something new today. In addition to being a photography, I also like to think myself a writer! haha It was like 4am last Saturday night (or morning), when the 100 watt light bulb in the head lit up brightly. Couldn't I put my two loves together--writing and photography, by writing dabbles, short narratives to accompany my photos? Below is the trial run for this idea and this isn't quality work, just short and fun!
Photo & Dabble #1: B&W photograph taken & developed in an Intro to B&W Photography course that I took in Fall 2010.
Photo & Dabble #2: Digital Pic of a flower. Taken as I walked to Chelsea Piers in NY on 4/25/2011.
Well, that it for now! As always please comment and tell me what you think! Ciao!
I thought I'd try something new today. In addition to being a photography, I also like to think myself a writer! haha It was like 4am last Saturday night (or morning), when the 100 watt light bulb in the head lit up brightly. Couldn't I put my two loves together--writing and photography, by writing dabbles, short narratives to accompany my photos? Below is the trial run for this idea and this isn't quality work, just short and fun!
Photo & Dabble #1: B&W photograph taken & developed in an Intro to B&W Photography course that I took in Fall 2010.
She stood there waiting –still and lost in thought, allowing the world to continue moving without notice. Her body have remained firmly in the present, as she waited for the next train home, but her mind and memories had drifted to a time long past. She daydreamed of a different reality—of a happier, freer time full of bright laughter. She relived years of joyful births, of sigh-worthy first and sixth loves of her life, of heart-wrenching loss and pangs of longing. The train rushed into the station, she blinked and the visions cleared, jolting her back into reality. With a deep breath and a smile full of so many conflicting emotions, she pushes her cart full of groceries for tonight’s dinner through the closing doors and continued onward as there were more vital memories yet to make.
Taking a deep breath, she smiled. Underneath the soft floral scent of the flower, she could smell the annoyance, then the guilt. She could sense the bit of anxiety as “Testosterone meets “Flora”. She could almost picture the scene—the sudden sight of the red & yellow flower and knowing it was perfect; the rush to the counter and the exchange of money for product; the dash to her office; sneaking it onto her desk and the hurried note with two simple words—“Sorry, Babe”. And she smiled again.
Well, that it for now! As always please comment and tell me what you think! Ciao!
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