One Out of 100,000

One out of 100,000

I’m packing up. Getting organized. Taking inventory. Melding mind to what’s ahead. Given free bill of health. Letting go of ruined relationships. Gathering up the blood, is what I’m doing, charging the pistons within me.

I’m very lucky. To think I will once again walk the unknown streets. Or cursed. To always be the searching for the one.

Photo that will turn the tides of time, so to speak. Validate me. Aha, the nameless will say, he got a glimmer of glisten— he stopped time. Which every year becomes so hard, now that Photoshop can manufacture any moment that you want.

I can take 100,000 photos and not overwrite the cards. Add to that at least 20,000 more capable smart phone memory storage. So I have that chance to rise. Why do I do this…

I do this because I have breath. And I have a vision in my head. To find the greatest love of my life, which may be street or may be landscape or cityscape or montage of all. I will find it. I will share it. I will eat the boulevards the Calles. I will probably fall again to mortal tragic love, but what the heck, when we’re dead we feel nothing at all.

The camera is not my eye. My eyes are the shutter now. I just need some metal and plastic contraption to hold the 120,000 photos, since as you know my mind is usually full.

I hope you come along. I hope you tap the shoulder of a friend or loved one and say, hey, follow this guy. He’s just like me, a dreamer and a doer, slightly odd but sorta beautiful. And let’s face it.

We need more storage to find the image that will change us again. And again.