I've always said this to myself: “I love a good old black and white photo.” No, I’m not talking about filters. But rather, an actual vintage photo. With people in the picture as well. Especially if people don’t know the picture is taken. That is my weakness. It makes me wonder what their story is. What they were doing in that moment. what was on their mind. What the reason they were smiling for. If their smile is real. what their day was like, what their tomorrow was like. If that same person is still alive today and if they've seen the same picture I am looking at. Stories they have to tell. That type of stuff interests me.

Things seem so much simpler back in the days of black and white photos. I love hearing what it was like to live back then. Each era has its share of rough patches and victories. Compared to those of today I wonder how different it must be. I just really appreciate old snapshots. Because in that instant, a moment was captured. Capturing people. People who have things to do. lives lived. Who accomplished things long forgotten. Or rather, people whose emotion is displayed immensely on their face. Great times and great smiles. or wonder at the unknown. or sadness because of tragedy. Who’s struggle can bee seen at the glimpse of a wrinkle on their forehead. Symbolizing the hard times of the past. Moments of the past I often find are lost when unraveling the long fabric of history. The moments that are not in textbooks are the ones that interest me the most. Those moments are my favorite. I find myself imagining what those little black and white people are like. Though forgotten, and unappreciated by most, I always have found the time to appreciate their existence. Even if I know nothing about them