the collector.

i had a musing today. i had an "ah-hah!" moment, where life fell inline and the universe made sense. i had a moment where i felt in tune with everything, and everything was in tune with me. and for once, that balance opened my eyes to the world around me, and the mundane became glorious.

it happens every blue moon or two, when the light is ethereal and every color is crisp... the details in the wood grain, where a child once sat and scribbled impressions in the surface... the chipped brick in the fireplace, where a husband remodeled... the pulls and stains in the carpet, where family and friends stumbled and spilt memories... everything so clear, so perfect. so photographic. even a moment watching the elderly couple read opposing books in opposing chairs by the poorly painted window is a moment that i realise i am a photographer. i am a collector of people. their beings, their habits, the choices they make, the lines in their faces, the things that they've left behind and the homes they've created. i collect people. i am a collector.