I want to surround myself with photographs at my feet.
I want to explore and have adventures with my camera in hand.
I want to get up early in the morning to see the sun rise and see drops of dew on the grass.
I want to walk around at night and see the city lights shine.
I want to count the stars as I lie down on a field of grass and play Us Against the World.
I want to write in a leather notebook all my thoughts.
I want to have a bonfire and watch all my memories burn in the flames.
I want to curl up on the couch and read as the sun warms my skin.
I want to sleep at 2 am and wake up to the birds chirping outside my window.
I want to remind myself of why I fell in love with photography and writing.
I want to go back to makes me me.

A photographer stands
Shutter cable in hand.
An image is beating
On his camera door
Not demanding entrance
Light, energy is indifferent
But continually present
And changing.
He thinks he saw something
His machine can capture
On a thin reactive pellicule.
But chemistry only keeps
A part of the whole
Pulsing available spectrum,
And the image emerging
Later in a darkened room
Is, of course,
A fraction.

You choose a sepia filter
To match your timeless visage
To match the clothes you've wandered into today
But it is not a selfie.

Your eyes pierce them through their iPhone screens
Your smile is casually not directed towards anyone in particular
Your outfit is recklessly on point
And it is not a selfie.

It is a punch in the gut
to everyone who has ever
said you are not good enough.
It is not a selfie.

The wings by your eyes will go out of style.
The dye in your hair will wash down the drain.
The clothes will wear out and you will take pictures again.

But you have fabricated a moment.
You are smiling towards yourself.
Slap your image onto every social media you know
Next to the supermodels and Kardashians and words of self hatred
This is the fulcrum with which you will lever the world.
This is not a selfie.

My love, I still remember my pledge to you
That I will love you till the end
That you will be here forever in my heart
The color of my canvass
The notes of my songs
The lines and verses of my poems
The beauty of my photographs
The story of everything I do
because of you

I renew my vow
I recall my promises
Let us heal the wounds of our past
The times I attempted to forget you
The times I decided to leave you

Now is the realization, my love
I love you with all of my heart
You are everything that I do
You are the color to my world
My life won't be complete without you

Let us forget the past, my love
Hear my songs again
Stare at my photographs
Look at my paintings
Read my stories
Recite my poems

You are there...
In everything that I love to do, you are there
I can't hide the truth
You are  a part of my life
And I need you to be whole

I renew my vow
I'll be with you 'til the end,
       my beloved ART

We're all authors
Typewriters
Pens
Pencils
Erasers.
We have stacks upon stacks of paper
Piling high
Of what we wish could happen
&
Of what really did happen.
We're all painters
Palettes
Paintbrushes
Tubes of endless
Reds
Blues
Greens
Blacks
Yellows
Whites
& in betweens.
We try to make a prettier picture
Of what's in front of us.
Try to take something ordinary
And make it other worldly.
We're all photographers
Polaroids
Camcorders
Film strips
Memory cards.
We capture the moment
And
Lock them in our hearts
Imprint them upon our brains
Because we don't want to forget.
We are all artists.
Because we each have visions
And create them
In order for others to see what we see
And
Feel what we feel.

I saw someone taking your picture today.
You looked amazing.
I'm glad someone saw your beauty and captured it,
because I've tried countless times in my words
and in my art,
but nothing I do can truly show how special you are.

I wish I could take pictures of you
I want to capture your beauty
And show the world what is like to see you through my eyes

Take countless photos, when the mood so inspires.
You may as well have not even thrown the shutter.
For the things that move you right in this moment,
Will not adhere to the chemistry of film
Will not flip one single electronic switch
Cannot be stored, except in the mind,
(A shoddy storage medium)
For the sight of your face,
Your beautiful otherness
Mingling with me in the air in between us-
( As you try to pick my nose… )
Your head is on my shoulder,
Heavy with sleep
And trust, always growing,
As your eyelids drop lower
My arm, sore, bends to raise you up.
I’m relishing the time
To be quiet, close, and still.
When I can find, in my heart,
All the words that mean something,
Not tossed about casually, in the noise of the day.