BrentonBlurred Pictures
September 1st 2008 02:11
There's something special about blurred pictures. It's hard to say it clearly. Perhaps the key is in the imperfection - a little peice of how it was - not the truth, but truthful. This was it - this is how it was - it was mad, it was fast; I was nervous, I tripped, I couldn't stand still. The world around me was buzzing with electricity and nothing was exaclty clear. This is how it was.
Maybe they are special because they are imperfect. Because we need to remember that it was a rush, and a hustle. That we didn't just pose and pause for the camera. That it wasn't all clean and clear. That it was vibrant and busy and chaotic too. That it was HAPPENING.
The aesthetic of the intended is a kind of glossy perfection. The aesthetic of the unintended is a kind of vibrant chaos. Each holds their own passion and enery. Each holder memories. Each is awesome in its own kind of way.
Maybe they are special because they are imperfect. Because we need to remember that it was a rush, and a hustle. That we didn't just pose and pause for the camera. That it wasn't all clean and clear. That it was vibrant and busy and chaotic too. That it was HAPPENING.
The aesthetic of the intended is a kind of glossy perfection. The aesthetic of the unintended is a kind of vibrant chaos. Each holds their own passion and enery. Each holder memories. Each is awesome in its own kind of way.
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