Roll #31-33: The Journey

Updated: May 4, 2020

At the intersection of death and rebirth is a work of art. Parallel lines bending, stretching, curving their way towards the heavens to create a shrine. White concrete reflecting the suns rays with brilliance while the shadows hide the not-so-distant memories of fear, hate, and confusion. A shrine of mixed emotion. A shrine with one foot firmly placed in a past full of heartbreak while the other stretches towards a hopeful future.

The face of each passerby is a novel. Each wince, blink, loose jaw, a page in this novel. Once inside, each laugh, conversation, and picture bring the passerby one step closer to forgetting. A step closer to inking the final chapter.

While beautifully unique, uniformity begins to appear in the strangest of places: Architecture. Each building becomes just another shade of beige. Just another shape of glass. Just another use of cement, brick, and steel. Just another place to worship, to work, to call home.

Then, with a blink, the uniformity becomes beautiful. The blue sky becomes a blank canvas as clouds roll in to create a fleeting masterpiece. And with these clouds, uniformity evaporates. Water vapor shifting, condensing, expanding into an ever-changing visual, which despite our efforts, can never be recreated. We become content.

But the ability to be content, to be satisfied, is temporary. As humans we crave more. We crave material, relationships, and knowledge. The later of which, for a moment, resides on paper or as 1s and 0s on a screen, yet lives in our minds forever. From this knowledge we create things. Some great, others terrible. Nonetheless, we keep creating, we keep rolling the dice. We dream.

Our sleep is the water which supports our dreams. Our subconscious, the wind which guides them. At times, these dreams, like ships are stranded---creating an infinite fairy-tale or nightmare. Eternal bliss or torment.

But one is never truly stranded. Just temporarily imprisoned.

Imprisoned by our circumstances, thoughts, the life we've chosen. Maybe the life we wish we had chosen. Regardless, these shackles can be broken, and just when things seem darkest, the gentle push of a child sends you adrift.

Life is a menagerie of color. A tapestry weaved of pleasure, pain, happiness and despair. Threads of light and dark which at the micro level register wins and losses. Success and defeat. Neither more important than the other. Moving back, these individual moments become part of a greater work. They become one's life. They become one's legacy.

Everything is beautiful if you take a moment to simply be.

Camera: Kodak Retina IB + Olympus Stylus 120

Film: FujiFilm 200 + Kodak UltraMax 400

When: September 2019

Where: New York City

27 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All