How To See The World

Published on May 10, 2011

Hansel and I actually crawled through a barbed wire fence to take photos of this shack.

Something so alluring about the beauty found in things disintegrating and falling apart–I have to say.

But as we got closer it became evident that someone lived there–in the midst of the garbage, rodents, nasty smells, and swarm of bugs. There was even things stored in the refrigerator that had no electricity to work. The bed was soiled and my heart dropped to see the paperback book.

When you look closer to the details, it’s obvious to see that someone that lives there has addictions and things happening in their life that are quite troubling. And here I am with my Big Girl Camera searching for the heart and the beauty somewhere hidden in someone else’s reality.

And as I began to walk around this shack I could feel a heaviness start to form in my chest. My heart just ached for the soul that occupied that space. My mind struggled to wrap itself around the deep pain that exists in this world–that you can find it present and visible even scarred in the wood grain.

But really, all I was doing was making assumptions.
Creating a story. Building a narrative to fit a specific place–a specific thing. Without knowing anything as certain–I gave it my own version of its own history.

And I do the same with people sometimes that I sometimes do with places. Attach my story to the story they are presenting. Not knowing if any of it is actually truth or part of their actual reality.