Last night my mom forced us to go get family portraits taken, so we went on a grand adventure with her photographer friends up to a beach in Michigan. It was cheesy and pleasant, so I didn't have much to complain about. Afterwards, my family went to dinner at what seemed to be a hoppin' local restaurant, and we sat outside by the river to get devoured by the tiny, invisible mosquitos. (I have, like, 15 mosquito bites, conservative estimate. GDI, kids.) At some point we started talking about pictures, and my mom mentioned an old picture from an Indonesian gathering where apparently I had been in a bad mood, so while everyone else was smiling at the camera, I was sitting on my butt with my back turned. Hahaha, it sounds so like me, seriously. I was such a bratty, asshole kid. "The things we went through, raising you." I'm sorry, parents. At least I turned out okay, right? :D?
Anyway, I went on a quest today to find that picture, but I couldn't find it. I did, however, go through boxes of old pictures, and it made me realize how wonderful physical pictures are. Here are these little slips of paper with memories crammed into them. They're never things you forget, really -- they're in your mind somewhere -- but they're things you don't ever think to remember. Sometimes the names and the faces and the details are lost, but in the end you still have a physical token of that part of yourself. Maybe you can't go back and know what exactly you were doing or thinking at the time, but throwing yourself into a picture is enough to remind you of how you were feeling. That's... so powerful. Tracing your emotions through the years, seeing how things and people and situations and your very own perception of self have changed so much, or haven't changed at all, being able to feel all of that as if you weren't years -- lifetimes -- removed from it. It's a trip, literally.
... that's all I had to say. Mostly painless, right? So yeah, here are some pictures from back when I was seriously fucking adorable.
( I'm not even exaggerating, f-list. )
Hm. ♥
Anyway, I went on a quest today to find that picture, but I couldn't find it. I did, however, go through boxes of old pictures, and it made me realize how wonderful physical pictures are. Here are these little slips of paper with memories crammed into them. They're never things you forget, really -- they're in your mind somewhere -- but they're things you don't ever think to remember. Sometimes the names and the faces and the details are lost, but in the end you still have a physical token of that part of yourself. Maybe you can't go back and know what exactly you were doing or thinking at the time, but throwing yourself into a picture is enough to remind you of how you were feeling. That's... so powerful. Tracing your emotions through the years, seeing how things and people and situations and your very own perception of self have changed so much, or haven't changed at all, being able to feel all of that as if you weren't years -- lifetimes -- removed from it. It's a trip, literally.
... that's all I had to say. Mostly painless, right? So yeah, here are some pictures from back when I was seriously fucking adorable.
( I'm not even exaggerating, f-list. )
Hm. ♥
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