Watched this...then slowly walked up the "utility" stairs to a small cubby hole where my photographic history rests... a case for speed graphic, a case for my self constructed image boxes, lenses still heavy with memory...and the small Canon case, an AE-1 and F-1 within, each containing an unexposed roll of Kodachrome 64...settings just as I left them, manual all those years ago. Have opened their sealed bags maybe twice...when downsizing, passing things on, throwing things away...these have left me in paralysis at those times...I turn my back, walk away, close the door. I had thought one time to photograph a message for after I am gone...but the reality is I know they will leave in a clean sweep once I depart to make room for what someone considers to be that which "really matters".
Strange how those small bodies can carry what we still feel as the only air we really breathed and how as I see this screen blurred in tears, the sense of the end and insignificance is so powerfully, overwhelmingly, near...