1000 Words: On Birds and Security

Why do we take pictures? Why do we care?

Obviously, we need to care about what we photograph. If we didn't, we wouldn't. Every picture means something to the person on the other end of the lens, whether it's a loved one, a beautiful place, or a particularly exciting meal. Everyone has their own reasons for wanting to remember something. Never mind, I just answered my own question. 

New question: Why do people share photos? What part of our brain thinks that everyone wants to see our selfies or our lunch or our best friend passed out drunk on the floor? If a photo represents a memory or a story or an emotion - a hidden part of ourselves - then when are we not more selective in what we share? Why do we not take the time to explain the why? 

As you may have noticed, the blog is back. After four and a half years, it's time to write again. I'm starting by taking pictures that mean something to me, and explaining the why. It's entirely possibly that I will post food, or selfies, or passed-out friends; as long as it means something to me, and I can share it with the interwebs, everything is fair game. 

My first thousand words -- below the break!

Of Walks and Change, Part 2

Read Part 1 before coming to this narrative. I'm not sure it matters much, but I couldn't bear it if my three followers read things out of order.

Of Walks and Change, Part 1

People don't change. They evolve.

Sure, we might superficially alter our current interests, opinions, physical appearance, and attitudes toward others, among other things, but who we are as people -- the stuff we're made of, as it were -- remains the same. The longer you think about it, the more you'll realize that I'm correct in this. Alcoholics are a commonly cited example; it doesn't matter if someone hasn't had a drink in ten minutes or ten years, if he has the genetic disposition and the characteristic mindset where alcohol is concerned, he is an alcoholic. Likewise, as a more mundane example, someone who despises, say, broccoli, won't ever really "like" broccoli, no matter how often his parents made him eat it. Our circumstances change, as do our motivations -- and, for that matter, our motivators. Our selves have not changed. If this depresses you, I'm sorry. Join the club.