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Maybe I Was Only There in Pictures

September 6, 2006


I wonder what becomes of all those photos people take of people at events they attend. We attended our church picnic on Labor Day. A couple of people were taking pictures. They were using the kind of camera I used to use as a journalist–the sort that expends film–so I do not expect to receive any of their photos by email. One of them took a photo of me; I mugged grotesquely. I think I had just eaten some licorice. I recall a grouping of photos that was assembled at a late church member’s funeral; it included several photos from past church picnics. This reminds us we were there, at least in pictures. I once wrote a villanelle with a recurring line, “Maybe I was only there in pictures, after all.” Maybe the photo someone took of me mugging after I ate some licorice will be part of a photo collage at my funeral. My blessed hope is that my bent self will be orthogonal at last, in the presence of the God who laughs (Ps 2:4) from his heavens, from where he has done whatsoever he hath pleased (Ps 115:3), and that I, created in his image, will laugh too.

2 comments:

Victorbravo said…
We cherish images, even if they are grossly nonorthogonal.
It must be because we were made in one.You are right. The collage of photos probably find their best use at the funeral. They provide good contrast to the vision of the promised uncorruptible body.
11:23 AM  
HZ said…
They probably get used to illustrate Reader’s Digest or something.Isn’t it beautiful that one day our bodies will be the perfect expression, of our perfect (and unique) souls?
4:05 PM  
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