I am a trigger-happy person. (And no, I'm not referring to my shopping habits.) Ever since I owned any sort of camera, I have liked taking lots and lots of pictures of people, places, and moments. In college I had a wall filled with Polaroids -- the only rule about the Polaroids was that they had to have people in them; none of this fancy artistic wannabe stuff -- just pictures of mostly-happy, sometimes-intoxicated, shiny people. As I moved from dorm to dorm, the pictures followed me everywhere, growing as my network did in college. When I packed them away for good upon graduation, I noticed that many of those people in the pictures went away and became a figment of my college days as well.
Fast forward a few years and bring on my DSLR. Suddenly, every snapshot was about capturing the best and the most beautiful things that nature, foreign destinations, and restaurants had to offer. People were optional and often missing from entire albums. Vacations became another opportunity to capture that perfect shot, with the perfect light, and the perfect shadows...
But I've come to realize the world I see from behind the lens is nothing like the real one. We take pictures in an effort to remind ourselves of moments in time, and to encapsulate a moment for eternity. But our minds do a far greater job of capturing the essence of these moments -- the way the blood rushed to your cheeks, the coolness of the morning air on your bare skin, the warmth that you could only relive by closing your eyes. And remembering. Every vivid detail. And those are the memories you treasure the most.
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