Three Birds

May 23, 2016 § Leave a comment


I had been happy the whole day thinking about the two flying birds I caught with my lens in one and only film. I had forgotten, or wanted to forget, the dead one I had photographed with my next film. 

It’s only because we forget death that everything we do has a meaning. And it’s only when we remember death we understand this meaning.

(Fist published in my Instagram account.)

Advertisements

Tagged:

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

What’s this?

You are currently reading Three Birds at I was not born in English.

meta

%d bloggers like this: