it used to be that i couldn’t remember much of my past. it’s a very vague and foggy notion that floats in my head that serves as my memory. but now, in the past 10 years, i have a about 6000 photographic indexes of my life. trigger points that bring back those moments tat i had long lost. for some reason, with my collection of images, i feel like my life has been so much richer but i wonder how much of that is in my head. but i mustn’t discount that the past 5 years has been the most dramatic in my life history. a marriage and kiddo will do that to you. but with the dissolution of the marriage, when i look back at my life’s photos, i gross over photos of her. it pains me to look at the photos because it does bring a lot of good memories and adventures. i wonder how long it will take for me to get over these negative emotional responses from seeing photos of her. most of my friendships in the past didn’t have much of a photographic memory, small pockets of it but not full albums of rich memories. when i look back over my images and first, i think about how shitty photographer i am. i can’t help it. it all looks so under potential. like i could have done more but i didn’t even try. anyway, beyond my fear of being a failed photographer, i still quite enjoy the images i see. i keep telling myself, that i won’t remember one photograph that i took as a working photographer and in my last moments, i know that i will continue to find great joy in looking at my daughter. watching her grow through my broken lens. tonight i determine the thing has been most distinct with uma is her lips. from the first days to now, the way her lips is something that had a distinct and persistent presence in her growth. it seems so cliche but i finally got it. that a child changes so much of your perspective. all your young morale fiber that had weaken over the years become strengthen after a birth your child. what kind of world do i want to leave for them. but more importantly, can i teach her that she can create the world she wants with good old fashion blood tears and patience.