I like to write but I rarely share. I like to think that photographs can suffice. At times I question that power and recently that fear has gained new traction in my life. I know my photographs have a bias towards beauty and that I eschew the negatives aspects of life. This give me pause. I don't know if I can truly understand what it is that I try to say with my photographs without contemplating that which I have chosen not to. When life speaks maybe I should try to listen and right now life is anything but silent. I always fear that which I don't think I'm good at. Writing is one of those things. I don't think I'm good at it so I write only for me. It is symbolic of how I have approached much in life. This approach creates a state of being tentative which prevents me from being present in many aspects of life. I am tentative out of fear of both success and failure. I decided to stand up to fear today and not only write my thoughts but also share them.
Life is beautiful or
so they say
too narrow a claim to
wholly embrace.
A declaration of joy
and triumph for one,
can be a dagger that
pierces the soul of another.
Life is to be lived, what
of joy?
All people are given
life but joy is rare.
It is in the absence
of joy that we learn of its power
yet in its presence
we forget of its danger.
Perhaps we have
neither joy nor despair in life,
only the comparison of the one to the other.
As light is given to
one, a shadow is created for others.
They are partners not enemies.
Shadow defines in
tandem with light,
it is through both
that we are capable of sight.
When joy or hope departs
what remains?
A chasm is created that
cannot be filled.
Nor can it be fully
comprehended.
Maybe you can’t
measure emptiness
for emptiness does
not exist.
It is merely an echo of
what once was.
A shadow of something
lost that we long for.
When others hurt it
is a natural condition of life,
it is evidence that
they loved or have tried.
Is hope the lack of despair,
or despair the lack
of hope.
Why should I
delineate the two?
One cannot exist
without the possibility of the other.
Must we embrace the pains of
loss and loneliness
to be considered worthy
of its compliment?
Is it better to have loved and lost
or do we even have a choice?
Can you have one without the other?
