Storytelling

I realized a long time ago that I was not a good story teller.

It’s true. I am not.

For some reason, when I have witnessed something inspiring, I have a hard time not communicating it to anyone who will listen to my seemingly uninspiring diatribe of the moment. I don’t know why, but I seem to trip over the words that complete my experience. I want desperately to tell them what I was feeling on the inside when I witnessed the event, but the words seem to get stuck somewhere between my head and my throat and it comes out sounding like some idiot 1980s Valley Girl just told you about the purchase of their new skirt or boots they got on sale. The audience watches in equal parts horror and bordem as I choke over every word that comes out.

But if I have my camera in hand, I can tell you everything. I can tell you how something felt when I looked at it with my heart. I can tell you how something smelled. I can tell you the mood of the group. I can tell you the story behind the day. And I don’t need to tell you a word about the moment.

All I need to do is show you the photographs…and you will understand.

The above photos are called the Blacksmith. They were taken at the Phillip Simmons Foundation this morning. That is all I will tell you…

At least in words.

show hide 1 comment

Amy - Just so you never forget, I’m pasting my facebook comment here, too…

Hands of people who DO things are my favorite picture stories. And you ARE an amazing storyteller. Gifted, even. And you do it in 0 words or less.

Your email is never published or shared. Required fields are marked *

*

*

There was an error submitting your comment. Please try again.