I'm on day three of massive amounts of photo editing. How many hours can one stare at photos without going cross-eyed? It's been interesting. I've pitched well over half of my formerly precious photos and it begs the question: why do we keep what we keep as we pass through this life and toss other stuff that seems so keepable? Think about how many items you have tossed thus far in your life. How many trinkets, lipsticks, pairs of jeans, shoes, and ideas have been relegated to the circular file? And yet, I'll bet you have a few random items you've held onto for no apparent reason. Except that your arm won't work when you try to throw the thing away. The workings of the heart are secret and inscrutable.
For some reason, I love the photo above. It is not special, but it reminds me of when I was six, riding my bike around our Miami neighborhood with my cousin Ronnie, who lived with us. It was Easter morning and I rode, steering with my left hand while eating my chocolate bunny with the right. I was on top of the world till I went over a bump and dropped my bunny into the mud that had collected from the overnight rain. I started to cry. Ronnie was behind me and immediately held his bunny out for me to take, saying, "Here." Why does this picture take me back there?
And this picture. It holds some secret which makes me happy. I could look at it all day and I don't quite know why. Ditto with the top photo of the jacaranda tree. Even the word jacaranda is amazing. Say it aloud. Go ahead. It will make you smile. I guarantee. Is that what art is about? Mystery and magic? Trying to grasp what is just beyond reach, wonder to wonder?
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