When I was in high school I tried journaling.  In college, I wrote prayers as a collective record of thoughts.  To go back through words I have written usually brings an odd pain.  To read of struggles I went through.  To read dreams I once had.  I am a melancholy sort, in that way.  Words.  Words, words, words.  Words mark exact feelings.

No.  I am one to remember the overall positivity of a moment.  No matter how dismal it truly was at the time.  Through a lens, I choose to see the world as I will it to be.  It may the be way things truly are with a twinge of lighthearted humor.  Beautiful things sharp in contrast with the situation.  Little things of everyday living.  

A photo of my friend who came to visit me in the hospital.  
A photo of flowers received.  
A photo of the sunset over Seattle.  
A photo of the food sent up from the cafeteria.  
A photo of the board game we played for hours as I lay in bed.  

Photography is my therapy.  Photography heals wounds.  Photography allows me to translate my exact feelings into an expression of how I choose to see life.  I have not chosen to be a historian, taking down the facts.  Nor am I the person who will say to you "look on the bright side."  

I will show you the bright side.  

That's how I share my story.  That's how I can share yours.

"Everyday Living"
July 2012