It’s a good thing this isn’t the entire point of my blog…
It’s a good thing this isn’t the entire point of my blog…
Porch sale.
“Everything’s so broken. I’m broken.”
Foreign.
Broken
I woke up late today and ending up getting out of the house around 3:00. I decided that I felt like hanging out with the homeless and disabled people downtown.
It’s a long story, but I’d just like to share one moment with you.
One woman I spoke to told me this: “Everything is so broken. I’m broken.”
It broke my heart, before she even started to cry. Thank goodness I’m not much of a crier, or I would have added to the situation.
She then asked me to take her portrait because “I want there to be something for people to remember me by.”
And I feel like an idiot because all I could say was, “You’re not broken.” And after the photo was taken, “You’re beautiful.”
I finished the roll, and I’ll be waiting by the phone for that call.
The process.
I hate doing “professional portraiture.” You know, headshots and stuff for business people. Especially because those pictured are usually much more interesting than their photos would suggest.
I love old people. Not in a weird way. They just happen to often be awesome.
Not enough light. And too much in the back. Still just enough.
Validated by other onlookers. (Though there is still a bit of guilt.)
