I constantly wonder why I am so drawn to things like this building. I will be sitting in the passenger seat of the truck, out on a weekend with the family, and I’ll see something like this building in the distance and my entire being calls me to stop, capture, analyze.
Sometimes I think it’s because I see beauty where others may not and I’m full of myself enough to think I can show what I see. Sometimes I rationalize that the state of the place makes me think they’ll tear it down sometime soon and that lack of permanence makes me want to capture it before it’s gone.
Things being there and then suddenly being gone; particularly when I least expect it, has always been a *thing* for me. People, family, places, memories; it messes with me to realize that nothing is forever and nothing is ever guaranteed.
If I could wrangle a promise out of the universe that things would just stay the same for a day, I would be willing to sacrifice quite a bit. Finding that balance in life is hard for me and for many others, I realize, so maybe I’m just making sure that these things; places; buildings that were once loved and called home to someone, are never totally relegated to the pile of dust and then empty space they will eventually become.
Like a memorial stone in a graveyard, my photos can keep something alive, in a way, that might vanish from the world at any moment. Once a few years pass and people move on, no one will even remember that this house once existed.
(It just dawned on me why I take photos of myself and save them, although I rarely share them with anyone. *chills*)