sometimes i feel like a deep, sensitive, connected woman. who breathes deep and easy. who understands. who knows.
other times i feel so small. i think of africa. i think of bangkok. i think of that little tiny dirt road in mexico that i traveled to get to that old couple’s shack of a home…and it’s those times that i think i know nothing.
i do know, that when i pick up my camera, i see far more brilliantly than i ever have without it. my fingers immediately shift gears and glide lightly but purposefully over the buttons on my camera. my focus fades in and out between what i see, what i need and what layers are being peeled back between me and what sits before me.
i snuggle up in the layers that are being peeled back. mine. theirs. now ours. opening up slowly but surely to one another and the experience of working together through my camera. if the eyes are a window to the soul, my camera is a double doorway.
and this little tiny girl of a person who knows little but feels much, is privileged enough to keep being welcomed in through doorway after doorway.