I found this leaf lying next to my car, in the parking lot of my building this morning. Now, if you go around picking up every pretty leaf you see, you’ll never make it as far as the grocery store across the street before they close, but this one was especially pretty, so I scooped it up.
For the last several years, my inner life has been dominated by one theme – a struggle against futility. My world has been bracketed on the one side with the fear of losing what I have, and on the other by the belief that I can’t have what I want, anyway. Between these parentheses, my heart has been squeezed.
There’s a part of me that really, deeply, wants you to want to look at my pictures, wants the pictures themselves to be special to you. I want to see things clearly – see what I love in a world of my making, and in myself. If I say your perception doesn’t matter to me, that’s a lie. But I really can’t know if I’ve revealed enough to entice you to see this leaf. And I’m trying, trying not to answer that question.