Photography had been her solace. She saw things differently when through a lens– the rays of light through the trees became a doorway to heaven, the clouds in the sky were ships waiting to dock.
I used to be interested in photography. The idea of being able to capture people in static states before they could shape-shift into another person was fascinating to me. My relationships with people tend to be all too variable, and that leads to complications that I’m not prepared to deal with. The volatile personalities of people contort my life into a minefield. One misstep results in irrevocable change and shattered realities.
Jordan
You ever just look at a pane of glass and think about all the tiny bubbles trapped inside. The way they shine at their edges when the light hits it just right?
Annika
The camera clicks. I straighten up. The leaf is blown away by a gust of wind, scuttling away down the street and catching against the red brick wall. My hair has fallen across my face, and I brush it out of the way as I go to follow the leaf. I let the camera hang from it’s strap around my neck, the weight familiar and comforting.
She quickly put the camera to her eye, lined the camera up with the beautiful seen before her, and hit the button sending a flash across the sunset filled sky.
Sydney Erbe
I have always loved photography. I admire it although, I would never make it a career. Photography is a way of expressing something you can’t say with words. Photography is also a way of making memories of seeing something you can’t forget!
Alexandria
She heard the click of his camera behind her and smiled to herself- that used to piss her off, but she now took it as a compliment. Even when he wasn’t taking photos of her, the fact that around her he could see something beautiful and want to capture it… it was comforting. Right? She turned to him and her heart skipped when she saw the lens pointing at her, his grin visible behind the camera.
Photography is the study or taking of pictures. Wedding, baby, etc.
Caleb Simmons
I think of photography as a fun hobby but it is so much more. We look at old photos today and we see fashion, how someone lived and so many details that make us wonder what things were or how people felt. Super old pics show people not even smiling.
Tammy R. Esposito
My dad is a photographer. I want to start photography once I get into high school which is this year. I believe it will be a fun and lovely experience.
Peighton
El reto de la fotografía le llevó a mirar el mundo de una manera diferente. Intentar capturar un instante de la vida a través del lente le llevó a contemplar el mundo más despacito y a saborearlo más.
you’re so many things in a person at once, all fire, all soft, kind and gentle but callous, sharp, honest and cold, with the warmest brown eyes but the snidest, most cutting glances. you’re a contradiction in a piece, a mystery by all regards, but a wonder by my judgement. the curve of your mouth is more often a sneer than a smile, but you have the most truthful smile. you are my favorite scent, the small snippet of joy, a rush of wings, or perhaps a heartbeat, if only there was just a little more – more film, more lighting, if your hand was mine;
in a world where there was no photography, a memory wold not last and the felling of love would sometimes fade for without those memories people would lose the love they had for each other.
Naomi Comeaux
My friend does photography and she is amazing at it. It is a skill that I would like to learn but it also seems like it’s really complicated. You have to know about shadows and lighting and how good people look against different contrasts. I can understand why it is so expensive.
It wasn’t anything serious. Just something to pass the time. John enrolled in photography at the local community college because it beat sitting on the couch. Then she walked in and started talking about stillness and motion and beauty. John took mental pictures of her beautiful smile and decided to take the class a little more seriously.
i am walking photos. scars that have stuck with me from past lives as slaves and martyrs are now the ones that put me on the front page of the editorial. my stance and wide shoulders do too. my back with its bumps and my face with its discoloration. my teeth like pomegranates and my hair like pasta left on the stove for hours and hours on high heat, my legs like splinters that shed from tree trunks and my hands like spiders that spin webs during the night and sleep during the day in huddles. we are the new feature, our gaps and shortcomings are the new idols.
the one thing they felt really “got” them, you know? still images they could look back on in fondness. living proof of their journey through time and a relic broadcasting their development.
basard
I wouldn’t let anyone photograph my apartment now if my life depended on it. Well, I would, if my life depended on it. But you know what I mean. Things are scattered all over the place: hard copies of critiqued stories of mine; a new toilet seat for my toilet but I can’t get the old one off; my whole tool kit out on the coffee table and I’m trying to decide what I need and what I can throw away; electric light bulbs and I don’t know which work and which do not; some clothing; a new Brita water cleaner pitcher but I haven’t read the instructions on exactly how to put the filter in; and after an hour trying to remove the old toilet seat, I just gave out. The photograph, not that I would let anyone take one, is imprinted in my mind forever. Wow, thank God, it’s bedtime.
Joanna Bressler
in the dark, i move towards him, both screens lit. we both laugh. are you lighting the way, he said. i do that sometimes, too. i held up my mobile and the camera came on. i clicked. his light is on my picture.
Photographies of the past are the scariest. You always believe you just take them to remember but then, the people are gone from your life and you realize….
These pictures will haunt you forever.
AyraK
Maybe I should have been a starving artist. Maybe I should have tried out theater, or art, or photography. Maybe I should have risked dying young from lack of health insurance and just lived vicariously through cheap fast food, thrift store clothes (not because I’m trying to be cool), and crashing on friends’ couches. Maybe I should have been a creative mooch. Because this other life ain’t cutting it for me.
Photography had been her solace. She saw things differently when through a lens– the rays of light through the trees became a doorway to heaven, the clouds in the sky were ships waiting to dock.
I used to be interested in photography. The idea of being able to capture people in static states before they could shape-shift into another person was fascinating to me. My relationships with people tend to be all too variable, and that leads to complications that I’m not prepared to deal with. The volatile personalities of people contort my life into a minefield. One misstep results in irrevocable change and shattered realities.
You ever just look at a pane of glass and think about all the tiny bubbles trapped inside. The way they shine at their edges when the light hits it just right?
The camera clicks. I straighten up. The leaf is blown away by a gust of wind, scuttling away down the street and catching against the red brick wall. My hair has fallen across my face, and I brush it out of the way as I go to follow the leaf. I let the camera hang from it’s strap around my neck, the weight familiar and comforting.
calligraphy
pornography
biography
She quickly put the camera to her eye, lined the camera up with the beautiful seen before her, and hit the button sending a flash across the sunset filled sky.
I have always loved photography. I admire it although, I would never make it a career. Photography is a way of expressing something you can’t say with words. Photography is also a way of making memories of seeing something you can’t forget!
She heard the click of his camera behind her and smiled to herself- that used to piss her off, but she now took it as a compliment. Even when he wasn’t taking photos of her, the fact that around her he could see something beautiful and want to capture it… it was comforting. Right? She turned to him and her heart skipped when she saw the lens pointing at her, his grin visible behind the camera.
Photography is the study or taking of pictures. Wedding, baby, etc.
I think of photography as a fun hobby but it is so much more. We look at old photos today and we see fashion, how someone lived and so many details that make us wonder what things were or how people felt. Super old pics show people not even smiling.
My dad is a photographer. I want to start photography once I get into high school which is this year. I believe it will be a fun and lovely experience.
El reto de la fotografía le llevó a mirar el mundo de una manera diferente. Intentar capturar un instante de la vida a través del lente le llevó a contemplar el mundo más despacito y a saborearlo más.
i’ll never get to capture you.
you’re so many things in a person at once, all fire, all soft, kind and gentle but callous, sharp, honest and cold, with the warmest brown eyes but the snidest, most cutting glances. you’re a contradiction in a piece, a mystery by all regards, but a wonder by my judgement. the curve of your mouth is more often a sneer than a smile, but you have the most truthful smile. you are my favorite scent, the small snippet of joy, a rush of wings, or perhaps a heartbeat, if only there was just a little more – more film, more lighting, if your hand was mine;
(i never got to capture you.)
in a world where there was no photography, a memory wold not last and the felling of love would sometimes fade for without those memories people would lose the love they had for each other.
My friend does photography and she is amazing at it. It is a skill that I would like to learn but it also seems like it’s really complicated. You have to know about shadows and lighting and how good people look against different contrasts. I can understand why it is so expensive.
It wasn’t anything serious. Just something to pass the time. John enrolled in photography at the local community college because it beat sitting on the couch. Then she walked in and started talking about stillness and motion and beauty. John took mental pictures of her beautiful smile and decided to take the class a little more seriously.
i am walking photos. scars that have stuck with me from past lives as slaves and martyrs are now the ones that put me on the front page of the editorial. my stance and wide shoulders do too. my back with its bumps and my face with its discoloration. my teeth like pomegranates and my hair like pasta left on the stove for hours and hours on high heat, my legs like splinters that shed from tree trunks and my hands like spiders that spin webs during the night and sleep during the day in huddles. we are the new feature, our gaps and shortcomings are the new idols.
the one thing they felt really “got” them, you know? still images they could look back on in fondness. living proof of their journey through time and a relic broadcasting their development.
I wouldn’t let anyone photograph my apartment now if my life depended on it. Well, I would, if my life depended on it. But you know what I mean. Things are scattered all over the place: hard copies of critiqued stories of mine; a new toilet seat for my toilet but I can’t get the old one off; my whole tool kit out on the coffee table and I’m trying to decide what I need and what I can throw away; electric light bulbs and I don’t know which work and which do not; some clothing; a new Brita water cleaner pitcher but I haven’t read the instructions on exactly how to put the filter in; and after an hour trying to remove the old toilet seat, I just gave out. The photograph, not that I would let anyone take one, is imprinted in my mind forever. Wow, thank God, it’s bedtime.
in the dark, i move towards him, both screens lit. we both laugh. are you lighting the way, he said. i do that sometimes, too. i held up my mobile and the camera came on. i clicked. his light is on my picture.
Photographies of the past are the scariest. You always believe you just take them to remember but then, the people are gone from your life and you realize….
These pictures will haunt you forever.
Maybe I should have been a starving artist. Maybe I should have tried out theater, or art, or photography. Maybe I should have risked dying young from lack of health insurance and just lived vicariously through cheap fast food, thrift store clothes (not because I’m trying to be cool), and crashing on friends’ couches. Maybe I should have been a creative mooch. Because this other life ain’t cutting it for me.