A play set in motion by the players and the payers who are set in motion by the stage.
Alas, for my conceptual beauty of the world seems to have dried out.
I have no concept to bring about such awe striking and thought provoking photographs.
What ideas may contortion in my mind, seem never to make it to film.
What is wrong with me now?
Time is not of what it seems.
and a lack of does not appear to be the cause of the absence of my will.
I wish I had the want.
The pure wish to breathe ligfe into a subject posed so eleantly in front of my lense.
What seems to be the trouble with me.
These hands seem to create no more.
All seems clear are bitterness and a shroud of nonsense spill fourth from my mouth.
Unfortunate it is.
A Photographer who has lost the will to photograph.
For once I looked to the sky and the beauty of those around me for inspiration.
No more do I seem to make the effort to avert my eyes from the ground.
