Those Who Live In Memories Are Never

A Twinge At The Edge Of Her Lips And She Continued, The Soft, Slow Lilt Of Recitation: "ancient Walls That Sing The Distant Hours.

Thinking Of Nothing. Trying To Think Of Nothing. Thinking Of Everything.

Only People Unhappy In The Present Seek To Know The Future.

Life Could Be Cruel Enough These Days Without The Truth Making It Worse.

It Is A Cruel, Ironical Art, Photography. The Dragging Of Captured Moments Into The Future; Moments That Should Have Been Allowed To Be Evaporate Into The Past; Should Exist Only In Memories, Glimpsed Through The Fog Of Events That Came After. Photographs Force Us To See People Before Their Future Weighed Them Down.