tumbl'n back

Shantel and I have Tumblr accounts now. Well, I had one two years ago and then forgot about it and made another one a few months back. Shantel, on the other hand, made hers a couple of weeks earlier, and she's already got more substantial content than I do!

Also, there's a new e-mail address where you can all direct your questions/further comments: holdhandsbreathelight@ymail.com. (Apologies to those who have e-mailed us and did not receive a response! For some reason, the old hotmail was sending them all to the Junk folder and then deleting them forever into cyber abyss.)
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Today's featured photo is of a less snowy and less hazardous Queen's Park, taken on a relatively warm day earlier this month. (It's difficult to make out, but there's a girl walking on the path a few distances away, wearing such a beautifully bright red pea coat.)

empty nostalgia

Whenever I go into shops that sell antiques and olden sundry items,

I tend to gravitate towards the boxes of photographs and letters from years passed.

Often taken out of discarded albums and scrapbooks,

these mementos were once kept and shared intimately between families, friends, and lovers.

What are we to make of these forgotten keepsakes, proofs of existence, fragments of being?

It's sort of impossible not to wonder the fate of one's memories frozen in such images.

Will they, too, end up merely as curious objects in boxes?

strangers

People-watching is always so intriguing. We do it in transit, on the streets, in coffee shops, around campus, and everywhere else we find ourselves in the company of others. There is always something curious about people as strangers. We are hooked by the mystery behind all the faces and the stories hidden behind such characters.

I found this photograph, among others, from an antique store a few months ago.

Scribbled behind it, in cursive, was "Taken Sept 24th, 1924/London".

The concept behind a photograph is quite poetic as it is meant to capture a moment in time and keep it frozen for as long as it can. I may never know what the man in the photo above was like, nor will I find out his name, but I'd like to think his photograph imparts a memory that still lingers to this day.