Of Photographs and Memories.
I will start this with a quote by Kate Morton that I found absolutely gripping:
“It is a cruel, ironical art, photography. The dragging of captured moments into the future; moments that should have been allowed to be evaporate into the past; should exist only in memories, glimpsed through the fog of events that came after.”
I have an unabated desire for photographs. Whatever it is in me that feels an urgency to immortalise fragments of my reality is something I must have inherited from my mother. She sees it in me and had told me her mother was also the same way. So my love of photographs is quite literally in my blood.
I love documenting moments of happiness, of pain, of sadness. Documentation is everything. If we do not write, we forget.
“When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence” - Ansel Adams
Your memory will never be as sharp as the pixels saved on your IPhone so even after 320 days have passed since I had a boyfriend, I have the most beautiful picture of me loosening his cornrows in Kigali. Immortalisation. I can no longer remember what his voice sounds like but the gap in his teeth remain immortalised in my Google Drive. Nothing lives forever, except pictures.
