The way I see things… seems different somehow. Stranger, more detailed, but simple, in a way.

You see, everything is laid out. I see objects, and I move them around my in head. To put them where I want to. And then I take the picture, you see? And it turns out, how I wanted it to.

But the others can’t see it, apparently. They don’t see the beauty in the simpleness of the portrait, or the object. All they see is a face, or an object. They don’t see what is projecting from that. What I was trying to capture by taking the photo.

They don’t see the way her eyes are in the photograph, how you can tell she’s silently laughing at something offscrene. Or they can’t see that the object in the picture is not only sitting there, but it was put there. It was put there by someone, for a reason or purpose.

They don’t see the beauty. To them I’m just an old man walking around the town with his camera. Let him have his fun, they think, he’s just an old man.