Boom da yada in The irresistible Urge To Play with Light

I conclude, thus, that people are beautiful.

Not just when they dress up and pose and make themselves beautiful for the camera

but in the lines of their bodies

In movement,

or in repose

In love

With companionship

With family

Or, perhaps, even alone, in melancholy

Because this beauty is not a matter of the eye and the body; the beauty lies in the unspoken language pouring off the body into the aether between us and them, speaking from soul to soul of our common humanity.

And in such moments, we come to believe we could know someone, for a single instant, as if we know ourselves

We see our own dreams

painted on their canvas, and we realise, at a level below our consciousness, that we may be unique and we may never truly understand others and they may never really understand us,

that the connection we feel to those around us is a fleeting illusion fostered by common cause and common activity, building a psychic exoskeleton that holds us together for some little while.

But. There may be nobody next to us right now.

But we are not alone.

Surely there must be love in everyone

and love for everyone

Because no matter how strange we all are

or how strange we make ourselves

We're all human.

Children understand this, at least.

That's why the best of them don't fear people just because they're different

All pictures by Black Hat Photography^

^That means me.