You know, when I was in my vacations in Bariloche, me mother would get really fed up with me and my camera. She would say "Do you have to take photos of everything?"
I never answered her at first, but then I did. I was taking photos of a lake in el Bolson, and yet again she asked me the question.
"When I'm seventy years old, I won't remember the exact colours of the rocks. The shapes of them underneath the water. How clear the water is. The gold reflected on the clouds in the early twilight. The birds and their feathers, Aixa in her dimples, the food I was eating, the trees I saw, the flowers I would smell. The whiteness of the peaks of mountains. The yankee's faces, and the chocolate's color. I won't. When I hear a song, I take every detail in. I listen to every breath and every chord change. When I come to places as beautiful as these, I take photos."
And finally, she shut up.POSTED BY little girl blue ON Monday, April 25, 2011 @ 5:31 PM
