Photography is not like painting. There is a creative fraction of a second when you are taking a picture. Your eye must see a composition or an expression that life itself offers you, and you must know with intuition when to click the camera. That is the moment the photographer is creative. Oop! The Moment! Once you miss it, it is gone forever.
– Henri Cartier-Bresson
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate; 30
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
– excerpt from The Love Song J. Alfred Prufrock by T. S. Eliot
Do not ask, “What is it?”
There is so much and nothing behind that sigh. Nothing to explain. It’s a feeling that would take so many words.
I like the word ineffable.
So you caught me at this moment. This off day. This time of sighs on an overcast warm (for this time of the year) day. Where the colors pop and the skin feels the breeze. Where the mad man made noise makes the fist clench.