Someone asked me if I liked being a photographer and I couldn’t help smiling. I wanted to say, “Really, I’m not. But thank you.” But we were interrupted. It made me happy that they were genuine. It’s hard to find people like that today. The last few days I’ve been running around snapping pictures of the little things in my house. Don’t worry, I won’t bore you with them, but I suddenly realized that I didn’t really have any pictures of my very first apartment. I have pictures of Tyler, Mallory, Warren, Tom, Jei, and I in the apartment, but not really pictures of bathroom decorations, the stove, Jei and I’s first set of dishes, etc.

A little while ago I bought my very first bathroom set, as the last one was a hand me down from my mother, and some of the pieces were broken. I’m very happy about it, but this time, I want to remember everything. All the little things. What about the infamous Nature’s Seasoning?!

I want to take pictures of the things i was doing, the paintings, the projects. I just want to be able to look back in a few years and laugh at the things I liked. The ways I wore my hair. I mean, I’ve been photo documenting forever, but I want to take pictures of my desk. Pictures of my favorite nail polish. Those little things that make your life your life. And even though it’s kind of lame, I quote myself from back in January:

“Perhaps it’s frivolous; painting, photographs, writing it all down. But what if I wake tomorrow only to have forgotten everything?”