I’ve been scrounging through photographs hoping to find one or two I feel are worthy of entering in the county fair. When I snap the shutter I feel like it’s a fine piece of art, but when I start really eyeballing the composition and content the word, “blah” comes to mind rather quickly.
The problem with doing a photo search is the memories it unearths. When I’m supposed to be looking for creative possibilities, I’m wandering down roads I’ve loved, ruins I’ve climbed, and kisses held at arm’s length from the camera. There are shots of my children, my pets, and my bad hair days. Hours go by and the elusive prize remains elusive. Even as I realize and resent the time lost to sentimental daydreams, I also feel extraordinarily lucky to have the collection. Revisiting grand adventures was the best part of my day.
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