Little Moments

I am no visual artist.

I’ve never practiced, have hand-writing so bad that it’s illegible even to me, and frankly have never had more than a passing urge to draw…anything.

Sure it’d be cool to hand draw that image in my head of the castle I’m trying my best to translate to prose, but on second thought, maybe I should totally try and pick up drawing…

But my relationship with photography is the same as my relationship with poetry. I care about my fiction writing skills. I read books looking for plot signposts. I watch movies to deepen my understanding of how characters round out. I listen to lyrics and dissect why the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s Exile work so god damn well…shit didn’t mean to say that out loud…

I’m digressing as I’m often guilty of doing. What was I saying?

Ohh yeah photos and poetry–they are things that I do but not things that I am.

But I do have a nice camera roll full of travel and dog pictures now that we all carry a very passable camera around with us. Anyone can be a photographer when the subject is the love of your life, and the backdrop is Versailles. Perks of the modern world I suppose.

Every once and awhile though, you can catch lightning in a bottle. A photo that hits like a line from your favorite novel. (For those wondering, mine’s “Spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered, a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises! Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!”).

I have a habit whenever I’m asked to take someone's picture of snapping a bunch before they’re ready. Call it a quirk. Call it an asshole move. Both are acceptable.

That's how I nailed the subject of this piece.

We’d, I was there with my parents and brother, spent all day at the British Museum (no, I won’t be offering commentary. Move along).

You probably read that as “we spent a lot of time at the museum.”

But I spent my entire childhood wanting to be Indiana Jones.

So when I say “We’d spent all day at the British Museum,” I mean, we literally got there when it opened, and left when it closed.

Hungry, thirsty, back and foot sore, we stumbled into a lovely pub I wish I could recall the name of. A few pints and chips later and all was well in the world as we discussed all the little tidbits we’d learned from countless little plaques. Six years on, I couldn’t tell you why I had my camera open (I think it was to let my sister know what she was missing out on like a good asshole little brother) when I snapped this picture.

Nestled after all the artifact pictures, and before all the pictures from the tower of London lays this quick, candid moment of joy.

I’ll cherish it forever.

***

When the world is heavy

Full of moments of doubt

Take a breath

And seek times of merry

If you don’t enjoy the moment

You might just forget

Life’s just a ride

From sun up to set

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A/N:

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