The softness of a photo.
What it is to convey a sense, of sensitivity and the feeling of such gentleness and softness.
The soft, mute, colors play with the skin and fade deep into the subconscious. Other colors, make themselves known but play nice to blend with the other colors, a sort of accent do they bring to the other’s presence.
There is a certain emotion, when there is such a special blend of pleasantries brought to light. The light of a lens, the capture of a gaze of a gaze. The seeking of the passion of one’s eyes brought to capture and shared with those unknown to that fleeting moment.
Such is photography, a simple capturing of a moment. A sweet, or bittersweet moment.
To capture moments of such beauty is a divine thing, a stroke of genius, the gift from any god.
To remember, and return to, and re-live these soft and sweet moments is one beauty richer than so many else.
The way the body bends, a system of soft flesh and skeletal flexibility, a natural mix from the gods. A harmonious mix from creation.
She turns away, as if she cannot look upon you. She cannot bare the courage to seek and meet your gaze, her heart not having the strength. So sweet is the gesture. The youth and the innocence.
What is one to do with such a display, that but step back, look, and admire? How can one not admire such moments? How can one not have the cosmos paused just for a couple seconds at this?
How can you look into this moment and not see something to admire greatly? If you cannot, are you not human?
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