Perfect, just as she is.

When something this beautiful presents itself to my eyes, I have to wonder what the hell I need Aperture for.

I had too many things to do today to get to Powell's, so I don't yet have a book to help me with Aperture, and I'm still clueless about how to use it. One of my errands for today was to go over to Multnomah Arts Center to register for Jude Siegel's drawing class that starts in October. While I was waiting for my application to be reviewed, I saw this teenager in the waiting room, and I fell in love with the image. I love the ease of her torso, I love her worn shoes and her purple shoe-laces, the scratches on her shins. I love the lush flesh of her, the tan arms and white legs, the mess of her hair, the teenagery possibility that radiates from her. I love the black smudges on the wall behind her, and I love the subtly shadowed light on that wall.

I uploaded the image to Aperture, and I looked at all the cute things I could do to the image. I could punch it, intensify it, cross process it in two ways. I could change the color of the wall. I could remove the smudges on the wall. And there's not a thing on earth that would make me love this image more than I do, just as it was in the moment when I saw it. So here it is, straight from the camera. Just as I saw it. Unprocessed.

I asked her permission to take the picture, and she laughed shyly. "Sure," she said. I showed it to her after I took it. She shrugged. I asked if she'd like me to send it to her by email. "Not specially," she smiled. Of course. She doesn't see the beauty of it. She doesn't know she's a mortal being and that she may never be any more beautiful than she is in this moment. And why should she? She is this moment. I asked her if she's taking a class at the center. "Yeah," she grinned. "Photography." She's probably a whiz with Aperture. Nevermind. For today, I'm perfectly happy with what I got.