how many beautiful moments in life go unnoticed, uncaptured? most of our life-changing, emotionally saturated, worth-remembering episodes pass by casually, without anyone snapping a picture. unless, of course, you were lucky enough to be one of Henri Cartier Bresson subjects.
i tend to be painfully conscious about those moments, feeling sudden appreciation mixed with bittersweet sadness about the beauty so fleeting and intangible. my built-in mental camera continuously takes a quick imaginary selfie, as if zooming out on illusory boom arm and taking in a wider angle where i am just a mere character mixed with others. the happier i am, the more pictures this mental camera takes – and vice versa. happiness is photogenic, you know.
recently this camera’s favorite subject is three of us. the very first three of us picture at the Beth Israel hospital on a sunny Mother’s day of 2015, Leo as a tiny bundle in my arms, my smile wider than my face. three of us, sleepy but giggling, cuddling and making all kind of silly sounds in the morning, rolling over the bed with stars linen while waiting for the sunrise. three of us having an improvised picnic in Brooklyn botanical garden, laying under the cherry blossoms in full bloom. three of us splashing in a large round bathtub in a cabaña hotel in Tulum in a candlelight dusk. three of us on a virgin and empty beach of a national reserve park, naked, swimming in an emerald water of the Caribbean sea. three of us hugging and kissing each other simultaneously, just because, at any time of a day.
so many tiny precious moments strung on a thread of happiness. three of us, that’s all it takes.
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