Skip to main content
Why are we so focused on pefection. The perfect look, the perfect life, the perfect love. All of these moments we are offered in this world and we focus on that which does not exist, the apex of motivation, the Kodak Moment.

Love is not perfect. Life is not perfect. They can't be air brushed or touched up. They can't be reshot or predesigned. They just are.
What we tend to overlook is the fact that the Kodak Moment is rarely pefection, it is rarely flawless skin on Elle, or the ultimate fantasy wedding in the society pages. The Kodak Moment is usually that rare moment in life when our sensibilities and our insecurites are set aside. When for an instant we forget the expectations, we forget the world around us, we enter into moments of light where we can just be. Those pictures which are out of focus, that show the truth behind our eyes...survivors, babies smiling, family embracing, lovers in love, and greif in its midst...those moments are truth captured and not to be forgotten. That truth is a Kodak Moment

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

And All I Really Want...

I am currently in the throws of some galactic battle, an all out war on common sense, reality, and all those things which should really be important in our day to day. I am planning a wedding. A few years ago pre-engagement, before meeting the man who I had no idea would be the one, I knew exactly what I wanted in a wedding. At this point the marriage part did not factor in because hey, I had time. I wanted the wind, and trees, a few friends, a few family, a pretty simple dress, and him. There was no need for rice and bubbles, doves or bells, poofy hair and perfect nails. I was always that simplistic about my life, hating the showy monstrosity of it all and now I am here. I am here in the midst of the chaotic. 150 people, catering, photographers, dresses, and hair, and centerpieces, and music, and linen jackets to make it dressy enough but not too dressy. Somewhere along the way I lost it, somewhere along the way. I long for the stillness, the quiet, the spontaneous. That stillness of ...
Post a Comment
Read more

...now you're just somebody that I...

Typing, typing, typing. This whole process seems so foreign to me, and yet I know that I'm extremely competent in the field. I used to be a writer; I know that, it is documented here. I used to sparkle, and held an unwavering optimism, I used to shine, and be breathtaking all because I felt like the world around me sparkled, it inspired unwavering optimism, it shined and was breathtaking...oh how did I come so far. So far from the girl I used to be, the girl she was meant to be, all of her hopes, all of her dreams snuffed out like a short lived flame. She thought she'd fly, she thought her words would matter, she cherished the brightness of her future, she cherished that something within her self that I'm not even sure that I can identify anymore. She is miles apart from me, she's just the girl I used to be and it went so fast it's almost like it hasn't happened at all.
Post a Comment
Read more

Why I Write

9/24/2007 I have blogging fear. What does that mean you ask? Despite the fact that I created this little place on the web for myself in order for people to better understand who I am, and the life I've come to exist within, I have a fear of my blog being read. To go a little deeper, I am a writer. I am a poet. When I write I reach deep within myself and pull out every inch, every ounce, every crumb of emotion that could even begin to express what it is that I might want to say. I am honest. That is the essential core of everything I write or say but sometimes it is quite possible that my honesty, or the presence of my emotions over time displayed visually in a textual format has the ability to be 1. Misinterpreted, 2. Over analyzed, 3. Taken out of context. My worst fear is censuring myself because I'm afraid of the power of my words, but then that is why I write because of the power of my words so to deny that would be some form of self directed hypocrisy...and I rant on a...
Post a Comment
Read more