I was talking to Andy yesterday as we were eating lunch in the park about how oddly lost I'd felt the day before, at the Fourth of July parade in Lake Oswego, without my camera. It was one of the few times I could remember feeling that way without the camera — but then again, I frequently have a camera with me, so I don't have to feel that way very often — and I was trying to find a metaphor. Not having the camera was almost like not being able to write. Actually, it was like not being able to explain. I don't like it when I can't show you what I see. This was the picnic table and the tree, with one glowing lightbulb in its branches, on Sunday. I don't have a picture of the tiny little girl in the wagon with the red, white, and blue star painted on her face, glaring at me (I have no idea why), on Sat.
How grateful I am for that freedom, the freedom to try to explain.