/ Tuesday, October 25, 2011 /
                                                                                          Untitled ©  Chrissie Smolders

Last time I visited my grandparents, I wandered about the house and secured some of my memories on film. This picture was taken in the attic; it was the main playroom for the grandchildren. When playing with my nieces, I'd pretend to be a race horse and run around on the carpet. The same carpet still lies there, after almost a decade. I haven't seen them in years.

Until recently, I never really felt like my camera could comfort me and be valuable to me in a different way. I'd read about photographers, saying that their camera got them through a difficult time. Now I know what they mean. In ten days I'll be back in New York, and I'll be there for ten weeks. It's what I have been looking forward to for months; so much so that I sometimes forgot to be in the present. But there's a chance of losing something back home. Because of that, I feel a tremendous need to capture everything that I'm afraid might go away. It's worth wondering though, whether I should spent those hours clinging to material scenes that mean so much to me. Maybe I should just be with someone very consciously.


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