Thursday, November 10, 2011
the unknown essence
There is no love born and raised by two people that is exactly alike. Romance, I mean. I am out in public and I can hardly concentrate on whatever I'm doing when I notice couples in love, or not. It would be a challenge for me not to pay them any attention. To not touch on what they might be together, even though it will always remain mysterious. You see some men that have become men by love, and boys that will always remain boys, regardless of love. You see artistic hands and mechanical hands and sometimes they hold each other. You see bed heads and hot heads but hardly ever one of each. You see a scowl or a smile and then you know what makes them tic. You see concert goers and sports watchers, snow shoers and ice cold morning runners. Sometimes they seem quite studious with their matching pairs of glasses. Sometimes they seem to struggle too much, in their stained coats and dirty boots. Sometimes you see them laugh and you just know it's an inside joke. Other times you know one is making fun of the other. Other times the both of them are making fun of someone else. You can envision what they do when they are home at night. Some dwell in different rooms and hardly ever talk. Some are constantly wrestling, laughing loud, and horsing around. Some get right down to business, because they can hardly wait until they are out of public. Some watch and discuss the news. Some sing and dance together. Some are wildly passionate. Some are old fashioned. Whoever they are and whatever they do, the most romantic thing about them is that only they know what they have. Whatever they share can never be stolen or imitated. Every smell, joke, struggle, glance, kiss and hug is theirs to keep. I love that.
(image by Margaret Bourke-White, found in LIFE classic photography)