Photo: © Aline Smithson Photography Visit her website to see additional photos.
And, her blog Lenscratch
The photographer lives in Los Angeles, California, and
The photographer lives in Los Angeles, California, and
specializes in fine art photography.
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Writing Prompt Idea
Use this image or find an old photograph
(of anyone but you)
and tell a detailed story
imagining you are that person.
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Photo used with permission from Aline Smithson.
9 comments:
Oh I loved you for the first minute I lay eyes on you. You were my hearts desire and ever since I am forever at peace to know You are mine and I am yours.
Old photographs are so full of emotion.
http://rinklyrimes.blogspot.com/2009/01/282-phantom-memories.html
time is stopped with a photo!
RETRO ME
I'm showing you a picture,
Of me in younger times,
When my head had lots more hair,
And not so many lines.
I must say life's been good,
I've grown old gracefully,
I can still play golf and Scrabble,
But not soccer or water ski.
I'm sixty-three tomorrow,
Still spry and in good cheer,
But if you want to know a secret,
I'm surprised to have made it here
I still feel like this on the inside, time passes so quickly.
I look at this photo and realize I have become my father and my son has become me..Time passes so quickly. At one time in life we have all shared the same face.
Katelen
Did you see this man, where you're coming from? Yes, I know, yes, everyone's saying he would look different. But this photo is really recent, just 5 years old, that's not so long... it was the first time he wore that suit, you know, and how proud he made us and how happy he was, see, it's in his eyes. Well thank you, he is a smart young man, he's an engineer, you know! Oh... oh, ok... so they were put separately... do you know where? You didn't see... Oh, well, thank you very much, thank you anyway. Safe journey!
Haiku
Our ancestors are
like ladders to our future
in the present time.
This picture was taken in 1903, the year I returned a wealthy man from Dawson City and the greatest stampede of all time.
Like so many others, I headed out on the Trail of '98, from Seattle to Skaguay on a leaky old steamer, hauled my tonne of food up the Golden Staircase of the Chilkoot Pass, hand sawed enough logs to make my own boat at Bennett Lake, and rowed through the lakes to the Yukon River. I nearly drowned in Miles Canyon and was robbed twice, not that I had anything to take or anything to lose. Times had been hard back home, and I went hungry most of the time, but the promise of instant riches was enough to lure me through the coldest of the cold and the thickest swarms of mosquitoes. I sold everything I owned to finance my quest for the Klondike.
I arrived in Dawson City only to find that the best grounds had already been staked. Ten thousand of my fellow travelersand I had come a long way to learn the same thing, but there was no going back for any of us. We had risked everything to reach the Paris of the North and we had little more than our grubstakes and the clothes on our backs.
I met one man who was weeping openly in the streets. He had a vision that people would want eggs. He was right. People were tired of sour horse meat and dried beans. Carefully, , and at great expense, he packed over ten thousand eggs to Dawson City. He auctioned off his first egg for $10. A small fortune! He was weeping because the purchaser demanded his money back. The egg was foul. The lot was ruined. The man was ruined.
Taking pity on him, I bought the lot for a dollar. It was a dollar I didn't have, but he needed it more than me and I knew I'd get by somehow.
I was right. Out of the ten-thousand eggs, only one was rotten. I made my fortune on those eggs.
Yes, this picture was taken in 1903, the year I returned a wealthy man from Dawson City and the greatest stampede of all time.
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