Urban architecture: something beautiful, something captured

My eyes haven’t traveled a million miles to miss something: I started by listening to the surface: I’ve been a midsection passenger on California Highway 395 for years: Baseball bats and spikes in the dirt have touched the gloves of entertainment: I’ve been reminded of interned concentration Japanese: I heard about the games only as a child: I never came to Manzanar: I did not suffer from the fact that I was alive in 1943: I suffered from the fact that I never came to see: I never wanted to suffer from the loss of the future blindness:

“Do you remember? She was one of those who never admitted that when an emotion is dead, so is the memory of the event. He had to take her word for it because she was always a truthful woman.”

Graham Greene: A case gone wrong

Our hearts see with our eyes: Our eyes see with our hearts: Monuments of past lives are dreams that tell unseen stories: Living valiantly among past deaths in their future is where fairy tales begin: Our past is always our future:

I was at the Illinois Holocaust Museum: I was approaching the United States Holocaust Memorial in Washington.

I walked into the Peter Eisenman Memorial in Berlin: I looked at the Bangladesh Martyrs’ Memorial: I stood on top of the Babyn Yar Memorial in Kyiv: I stood away from the Arlington Memorial Amphitheater: I touched the water of the 9th NY/11 Memorial:

I still suffer from blindness to the architecture of the mentioned monuments: I remember the Japanese internment: I remember the sounds of life, not mine: I see the sounds of life without paying attention: I am drowned in sights and sounds that I have not witnessed:

My camera has never witnessed murder and chaos: Hear the conflicts and mistakes of peoples: I have heard about the Hutus and Tutsis: I have read about the Bosnian War: One million conflicts in the Middle East: Nearly ten thousand years of human turmoil: What remains, – this is simply evidence of a camera in panoramic mode: Centuries in one frame throughout my decades are a constant: The eternity of planets I always remember: Paul Celan “Sand from an Urn” comes to mind: I conjure up what dreamers do: This is what I do on my streets and beyond: Merlin lives where my dreams live: Our heart sees through our eyes: Our eyes see through our heart: I want to do something prettier: I may never be able to achieve a stunning visual effect: