I always cross myself before getting on airplanes. I know, it’s a silly ritual, the plane is not going down. I’m going to see and touch and feel my loved ones again. I will sink my toes in sand, and lay blankets in the middle of wheat fields, and memorize poems with my girls again. I’ll make it. I always do. Still, any time I have a moment that might be considered my last, I have to make it hyper real.
Taking pictures is like that too. There’s something about the feel of a camera in my hands. The click of the shutter, the turning of a lens according to the rising or setting sun, knowing the situation, it’s all about fear. Will I get it right? Because I see it so clearly in my mind already. All the things I dream, every last detail. Can I capture it? Because we all deserve to have the perfect picture, right? We do.
So if we’re ever walking down a boarding ramp and I reach out and grab your arm and say, “You know I love you, right?” You’ll know. What I’m really doing is taking your picture so that it will last forever. And if I ever stick a camera in your face you’ll also know, that’s me saying, "I love you because you're mine."