rough draft

rough draft

Candids. Negatives. Disposable film canisters.
What happens to taken memories when they aren’t developed?
Where do the stories go?
Are they rebuilt and made up again?
Do they disappear into strangers and newborn babies or thieves?
Nothing beats speed, light, picture, angle.. of an eye.
So why do we struggle for sight.
Why do we struggle for a feeling long lost gone.
Why not go out and recreate them.
Why not let go and welcome new ones. old ones. long ones?
Stickers, gum and drool on the face. They stick. Will you?

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