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The Poetry of Art - Self Portrait Collections - Faces of Art
The child. Innocent.
Waiting for momma.
Snap. A flash of light.
Caught the smile.
Fleeting.
©Bjlane
The backstory:
Try as I might, the earliest memory I have is not of a photographer coaxing me to give him a smile. Instead, it is a warm, cozy room. The woman I knew as “Momma”, sat on a couch. I stood behind a huge moving chair. I had just discovered something. If I blew air out through my mouth with my lips together, I could create a noise. I pushed the chair forward, it rebound backwards. I felt a small familiar body climb aboard, ready for a ride. I was the engine. My older sister was the passenger.
Even today, I discover new things about life. It’s fun to make a joyful noise. Just because. Sometimes you can move things. Sometime what you push, pushes back. It’s fun being the engine. But sometimes it’s nice being a passenger. And what I’ve learned about smiles is to give them freely. It’s even better if you can keep a smile on your face all the time. It just makes everyone feel good. After all ... it is a good life, after all.
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