Welcome

Welcome to ProsePhotos.  What I'll try to do here is perhaps just for me.  But hopefully I'll be able to share some of the things that we all have chances to see as we hurry through each day.  But more than to see, to experience.  I’m going for feeling here. 

That's what I will try to do.  What I will not do is discuss politics or religion in any terms other than the most general and only to the extent that they flow from whatever else I may discuss.  I find that the former becomes more tiresome with each passing day and the latter more divisive, and this in a world where the two seem to be fusing together.  As for both of those topics I will simply write that I once heard columnist and Pulitzer Prize winner George Will, a man whose intellect I respect and with whom I rarely agree, state that he would be an atheist if he had a bit more courage.  He chose agnosticism, and while I won’t claim any more courage than Mr. Will, I did not.  But I understand the dilemma.

            So with all of that out of the way, I humbly begin with this, my first entry:

And I see her and she sees me and “Don’t look at me,” is what I don’t say because I want…I want…I want what?... to be.  She lives in my head because I wrote her with my hand.  I never should have written her.  But I did just that.  I wrote her as surely and as finely and as truly and as passionately as any painter or sculptor has ever rendered any subject.  I wrote her with rich colors, subtle shades and lines and delicate alabaster contours that end nowhere and begin there again.  I would not, could not merely write about her because about her wouldn’t touch her, about her wouldn’t penetrate into her and spill her light onto the world.  She is as I see her.  As I choose to see her.