in other peoples' lives. This picture was in a collection of old family photos on my father's side. We don't know who the children are, or if they're even related to us. The only notation we have is "Children in Lucern." It's a compelling photograph, though, in the way of most old pictures. These children grew up and perhaps were known to others as parents and grandparents. Yet all we have of them is this one moment, preserved forever in youth.
When I glance at it from a distance, I have to admit it's a little creepy. But as I look more closely, I'm struck by how intimate it is to be able to examine someone's face: the droop of an eyelid, curve of the lips, brush of hair upon forehead. I wonder what the photographer's ratty old carpet smelled like, what color the backdrop was, who else was there, and what scene existed beyond the camera's window back through time.
No comments:
Post a Comment