on photography & writing

In my 20s, I wrote in my journal every single day, documenting experiences, processing life, feeling it all. I would stop on New York City street at any time of day, lean against a building, feverishly jotting down a thought, a blip of insight, worried that if I didn’t harness the words, they would evaporate. And I used to wonder if I would always feel so passionate about insight, if this soul-tapping was permanent, if adulthood would cause me to prioritize, deflect, leaving this paper chatter to the wayside.

I’m 41 years old now and still have a need to document this life… but it is through Photography now. The stronger my photography, the less need to write. This saddens me sometimes, as in my heart the stories are in the written word…

All my life I’ve been inspired by moments & the fleeting veil of permanence.  It is root level, this morphing that comes from awareness. Photography is my vehicle for this… but lately there’s been a shift. Photography is for other people, for me to be a mirror to connection, celebration. Writing is just for me, stories for when I am old and forgetful…

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