The Weight of Waiting

If I were to write the story of these pictures it would be one of waiting.  Of a moth so out of place yet totally at home in a dull parking lot.  Waiting for its mate, or perhaps the sun to shine in a place it never will.  Of a mother and daughter, sitting in town on plastic chairs, eating cheap biscuits and watching each other’s hair being braided.  Of an anxious girl in a printing shop, waiting for her job interview to start.  Nervously wringing the umbrella she is holding like she is wringing out stubborn, wet washing.

Of a girl, let’s call her Camilla, who travels a lot without going very far.  Who sometimes feels like Pavlov’s dog on a hamster wheel.  Who is not very sure of her own journey but whose heart gets made to feel like air in seeing others living their lives in beautiful ways.  Whose whole Monday is made by seeing a moth, a mother and a daughter and a girl, waiting.

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  1. MoVan says:

    Well done, Ameezing, on those words, word pictures, and pictures. :-)

  2. Karin says:

    Oh Camils ,your honesty and openess brought a lump to my throat.You are such a very very special person !

  3. Karin says:

    I really love the butterfly…. an epitome of nature and beauty in a harsh and ugly ” concrete ” world

  4. kideternity says:

    ….. it’s not a butterfly, it’s a hawk moth and that picture stopped me dead in my tracks. it’s so beautiful … and without trying to sound morbid it literally is waiting to die…

  5. kideternity says:

    a more elegant departure could not be fathomed

  6. ameezing says:

    One meellion ameezing points to you, Kideternity! You are so right. Not sure why my brain walked straight past moth and settled on butterfly. I have changed that but left my uncertain reasoning for it being in the parking lot. A bit of fact, a bit of fiction. Thank you.

  7. little one says:

    wow, i love getting to creep into your soul for a moment.

  8. Karin says:

    …actually it is a cream striped OWL moth…thanks google

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