Lightning Up

So far, these posts have all been quite heavy. I'm not apologizing, I am just switching gears to talk about something different.
Something simple, I guess.
and semi-coherent.

There are beautiful things.
Moments are things, and sometimes there are moments that are beautiful.
"Most moments are beautiful when looked at with the right lens"- Hollywood

If I were a photographer:
I would photograph a story: little words, and a lot of message. Something that people would rack their brain over for hours trying to decipher, coming up with something completely different, and probably better, than my interpretation. Then I would entitle it,

"That Was Kind of a Beautiful Moment".

It would probably be about a shortage of powdered sugar, being resourceful, and culinary failure.

Or a bowl of pasta, a red towel, and a new friend.

Or perhaps three girls in a car with the window rolled down- dry summer lightning.

Or the remembrance of lightning and thunder; something like snow in July within the first moments of waking up- that line between the truly remembered and the imagined.

Then I would subtitled it, "My Week in Abstract Black and White Photographs", set it aside for future generations, and hope that the feeling of anxiety--looking forward, looking back would somehow penetrate through the paper.
That and some abstract laughter.
There really was lightning last night
and I hear thunder over the roof of this building
right now.