- Messages
- 37
- Edit My Images
- No
On browsing through my images after a couple years hiatus I realise one thing is consistent with my thinking.
Nothing fits the current classification of genre.
I’m inclined to think it’s not me, it’s everyone else. Since there’s no one here to disagree I’ll stick with that assumption.
What’s this, for example?
I’d been sitting on the cold sand at Clark’s Beach as the sun set. Surfers were returning to their cars after the last wave.
It was so quiet and still. White noise of waves muffled anything audible. They’ll be back at dawn. So will I. I took the last shot of the day. It seemed so final. A private moment never to be repeated except within my thoughts. Another part of who I am.
Nothing fits the current classification of genre.
I’m inclined to think it’s not me, it’s everyone else. Since there’s no one here to disagree I’ll stick with that assumption.
What’s this, for example?
I’d been sitting on the cold sand at Clark’s Beach as the sun set. Surfers were returning to their cars after the last wave.
It was so quiet and still. White noise of waves muffled anything audible. They’ll be back at dawn. So will I. I took the last shot of the day. It seemed so final. A private moment never to be repeated except within my thoughts. Another part of who I am.