A rabbit scurries off the dusty porch. The hinges squeak and the screen door makes a “slam!…slam!” behind me. I unconscientiously wipe my shoes on the rag rug at my feet and as my eyes adjust, I step further into a simple but quaint living room. A small lamp in the corner barely illuminates the room but it adds a coziness that draws me in. There is no tv, just a small radio that reminds me of my grandmother. A worn loveseat and small wooden rocker fill the space. An open doorway behind the rocker reveals the tiniest kitchen I have ever seen and just beyond that is bedroom big enough for a side table and a twin bed covered in a faded quilt. When I open the white, wooden door of the closet, I am surprised by it’s heaviness but even more surprised at it’s contents.
What do you see?
This is my why. This is why I wander the streets and gravel roads. This is why I enjoy spending time alone. This is why no matter where I go or what I’m doing, my gaze is easily distracted. This is my why. I am not a naturally gifted story teller but I see a story in everything around me and photography allows me the opportunity to tell those stories.
What is your why?