Viewfinder Eyes

It was wonderful to have a camera this weekend, along with cooperative subjects and interesting settings for pictures. Managed to crank out more than a hundred photos in relatively short order (though admittedly only a few could be considered above average). I feel like my photography was better at one time, and I'd be willing to entertain the notion that I'm simply out of practice. I hope that's the case, because it seems that the most solid thing I've distilled from my musings this year so far is that I have a growing desire to express myself. I want some way to draw those formless, hyphenated emotions out of myself and put them in a photo or a movie, or maybe in writing somehow. I'm fascinated by those little feelings, so quiet and ethereal, that wash over you like a cool and gentle breeze from out of nowhere, caressing your heart, making you pay attention to where you are. It's afternoon sun, deep orange, on the sidewalk, or the sound of dried leaves blown by the wind on a gray day. Rain drops on a windowsill and distant drums. Dark nights driving alone for a long time. The swamp cooler. I wish my camera could capture some of this, though I'm not really sure what I'd do with it if it ever does.