Photo by Alex Krook
When I was younger I would ask my mother ‘When will the next roll of film be developed?’
Eagerly I awaited the day when I could see all the things I had observed through an under developed eye. I would go to parties where everyone was sure to look their best. Not knowing what to say, I would watch instead. I focused on the pretty girls with their long hair and short shirts dancing in the middle of the room. I focused on the punch that was bloody red with lumps of fruit carcasses. I focused on the low lighting and the red tint that japanese string lanterns would throw from a party still flowing in a Chinatown apartment. After focusing for so long, I would feel the snap of my shutter rustle through my front. The image flashed before my eyes, and I knew I would have a perfect moment saved.
The older I got, the more moments I would collect. A handsome groom was caught staring at a bridesmaid a second too long. A family cat was stuck in between the legs of a wooden chair. A pigeon sat anxiously inside a coop on top of a 15 story building. Caught between a flash and a sound, I can still see the faces of two friends laughing as spoons balanced on their noses.
My mother looked at me and shook her head, ‘You have to live in the moment,’ she said. And I did. I just preferred other people’s moments.