Click, click.

I have become the conquerer of time. I hold in my hands the evidence of things past. For eternity, if allowed, I am capturing what I see, factually.

Living bound by the inevitability of time, I feel free in catching a glimpse of what has been, just in that split second of my seemingly endless existence.

I see colour, I witness life, I document love, I capture nuance. My camera makes click click and unknowingly, I burn images. Continuing to document life on the small earth, just a tiny spark of light helps me in clarifying matters.

Holding the tools of documentation in my hands I wonder whether impressions are there to be truly captivated. Have I become the fool or I am truly in charge of making things a memory? Will I ever look at the same image a second time with the same eyes? What if I change, have I captured anything more than just a spark of myself, looking at the image? Is my tool adequate to capture the idea I head, the things I felt?

Most likely not, but what else is there, but to capture (or the minimalistic effort to try to capture)?