the sketch
I am without words to aptly put the year behind into some kind of focus ... let alone a context to all the life that's been lived.
I am without words to aptly put the year behind into some kind of focus ... let alone a context to all the life that's been lived. Given the tendency at this time of year to make sense of what’s past, I think we are naturally inclined to understand our truths; to thoughtfully reflect on what felt like triumphs; to make sense of those times when the shadows were a little darker and days felt a little heavy. That by doing so, perhaps we can infuse what lies ahead into a mirage we cling to in our minds - that bit of nirvana we hope and pray for in our day to day. But when I think back to the bits I remember of last year at this time in thinking about the year ahead, I can only recall a desire to sense an impression - to sketch an outline instead of a shape. Yes I had hopes and wishes and goals yet they were trivialities in the grand scope of the review mirror for I could not have even in my wildest imagined all I've experienced. So on the second to last day of this year, I am reviewing all that was; retracing the steps, recalling the sights and sounds, the faces and places and spaces ... the seeds of last year's grains cast to the wind for the year ahead.
at the seashore
how is it that three months can pass in what feels like one breath....i always shake my head and sigh at this time of year. realizing how easily i shrug off each day early on in june and into the high season of july - days that seem to linger on into the next that forge an attitude of "i'll get to the beach next week" until mid-august arrives and i find myself in a near panic of holy shit - it's almost over. maybe this is the year i'll finally awaken to the wisdom of taking in each day. and maybe next year i'll be a bit more assertive in marketing the love i have for beach documentary portraits.
quinn | august, 2013
Wells Blog
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