There are moments that crystallize in memory like amber, perfectly preserved, weightless, eternal. This image of mine, caught between heartbeats that yesterday appeared in a SF Chronicle story, holds one of those moments: Adji and Alonzo in their element, light streaming through studio windows like benediction.
For me, these days, a good photograph isnβt really about what I see, but what i remember feeling when the shutter clicked. The way morning light cut across the floor. The sound of breathing between movements. The electric quiet that fills a room when artists are completely, utterly present.
Sometimes the universe conspires to put you in exactly the right place, with exactly the right people, at exactly the right moment. You donβt plan for grace, you just try to be ready when it arrives and move on when itβs gone. You let it go. Because thatβs the deal, beauty doesnβt owe you anything, least of all permanence.
