I took this photo during 2011SX.

It’s blurry, I know. The quality is pretty awful. This was before any photography classes, before shutter speeds, or aperture or any of that fucking nonsense.

And still, I can’t help but think about it. Often.

To think about this couple (although not ideal, although not magazine-beautiful) and how they were able to seem so still in the hustle of Sixth street. Two little stones drowning in the bottom of a rushing creek. Bugs, trapped inside amber porchlights, burning to death.

How ghost-like the moving bodies became, haunting a moment trapped in time.

I can’t help but love it.