we put things in boxes. apples. books. socks. photos. concepts. dried lavender. people. spare wires. it makes them easier to carry around, and find them when you need to.
but what if the boxes have slats in them?
a photograph is an imprint of one single moment in the expanse of time that is worthy of being captured. its beauty or tragedy or simplicity or elation or sadness or passion or desperation is evanescent enough to only happen once, but universal enough to repeat and return eternally.
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