brown dress with white dots
"It's hard convincing yourself that where you are at the moment is your home, and it's not always where your heart is. Sometimes I win and sometimes not."
-- Jonathan Carroll
He was winter to her. Whenever she thought of their relationship everything was framed in winter— hot drinks, heavy sweaters, their breaths white together on the frigid air when they took their walks. They had been together in the summer too, but he wasn’t summer to her. He was always winter. It made her think we assign people— lovers especially— seasons in our minds.
— Jonathan Carroll
The photographer was set in his ways. A traditionalist, he did not have any faith in digital cameras, no matter how many millions of pixels they were capable of producing today. To him, half the pleasure of photography was working in a darkroom bringing pictures manually to life. He disliked the immediacy of digital cameras—the way you could see a shot seconds after taking it. At heart photography should have a certain degree of mystery in it, something ineffable and elusive, which was why he liked being in a darkroom developing pictures. It was a hands- on process you could not measure or ever replicate exactly. The photograph slowly emerging in its chemical bath was like a woman undressing in front of you—slowly slowly everything was revealed.
— Jonathan Carroll
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