These black and white images were, once, so stoic and flat. Through the lens of history, I saw a line of events. Dates and names quickly shot in and out of my mind. They could not compete with the colorful rush of the present.
Then I looked again. This time as a story seer. I breathed life into characters. I imagined the person's entire world - their work, their feelings, their family, their lovers. No longer motionless and colorless figures, they filled with heartbreak, ingenuity, scandal, and love. They suffered the angst of the unknown and risked everything for a chance at more. Mothers mourned the unthinkable. Teenagers possessed an unstoppable lust for life. Men grew angry with the injustice of it all. Family sewed their commitment to one another deep in their bones. These black and white photos did not seem so flat anymore. Seeing the stories brings the past whooshing into the present.
Now, which story to write?
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