What happens to the moment that just zoomed by my temple a second ago? Where does it go after ruffling my senses and counting my next heartbeat? The camera in my hands is a moment hunting weapon. It is a tool of beauty and love. It absorbs the illusive instant and locks it in the pixel cage of illusion – the illusion of immortality and possession.
A scrooge, I feed the seized slice of existence into my computer. This moment is mine and mine only. I save it and name it; I prepare it for the ritual of digital mummification. I am a proud proprietor of salvaged moments…