Wednesday, March 07, 2007

A photograph is a shared memory. We think we know who we are because we have seen photographs of ourselves, of the places where we have existed, and of the people who have shared the circumstances of our living.


















3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Jerral, I never thought that you knew those naughty words! Heavens. Seriously, a fime poem and a telling comment of what one feels is real pain and frustation. Yes, we must thank our lucky stars to be so fortunate.

I loved the sicture of you all including the moment when Mike placed the victory sign above David's head while Mike's dad had a finger in Mike's ear. Good high jinks, and family fun!

Anonymous said...

Jerral, I never thought that you knew those naughty words! Heavens. Seriously, a fime poem and a telling comment of what one feels is real pain and frustation. Yes, we must thank our lucky stars to be so fortunate.

I loved the sicture of you all including the moment when Mike placed the victory sign above David's head while Mike's dad had a finger in Mike's ear. Good high jinks, and family fun!

Anonymous said...

That pic of you in the highcountry is like the Yukon without trees. Where was that taken? Anybody ever tell you - you are very good with the camera. I remember a time on an amtrak train, paralleling the Panama, stand ing on a platform.............. ciao Michiel